


Where There's Sacrifice

by lupus



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, Knotting, Mates, Multi, ooc peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-06
Updated: 2013-08-19
Packaged: 2017-11-23 21:39:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 45,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/626798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lupus/pseuds/lupus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every ten years, someone from Stiles Stilinski's village is offered as tribute to a neighboring clan of werewolves. Every ten years someone is taken into the woods and is never heard from again. No one knows what happens to them, where they go, or what becomes of them.<br/>When the wolves come early one year and his community struggles to select a tribute in the time allotted Stiles does something foolish. Brave, but very, very foolish.<br/>He volunteers as tribute.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is take from a quote by Ayn Rand  
> ****This is unbetaed as well as my first attempt at fanfiction, so just bear with me. There **will** be grammatical and other writing errors here and there due to the fact that it's hard to catch your own mistakes when proofreading  
>  feel free to let me know if you catch some, but please be kind about it, this is 45k of words written and edited by one person there's bound to be some mistakes :)  
> Also keep in mind that this was written sporadically over a period of 7 months so there is definitely going to be plot holes  
> UPDATE: 2/21/14: I've gone through and tweaked some chapters but nothing major has changed. If anything other than tweakage has occurred (aka anything has been added), it is written in the beginning of the chapter. Otherwise, the story is the same, just a bit more polished!

          The howls had begun again.

          It terrified the adults more than anyone when it first happened. Stiles and the rest of the village had been in the middle of an annual festival dedicated to one of the village’s two week long holidays. The holiday honored the last new moon of spring and the first full moon of summer. It was personally one of his favorite holidays, the start of summer celebrated with two weeks of dancing, drinking, games, and feasting. The village was in the middle of the New Moon Feast which kick started the two-week holiday celebration when a single, long howl quieted the settlement.

          The adult’s faces all went pale. Stiles’ father, the village Sheriff, and the community’s leader, Gerard Argent, exchanged a look that Stiles had seen before, and knew very well that it never meant anything good. The younger kids had hushed, but their faces didn’t quite hold the same level of fear as the adults. Even Stiles didn’t fully understand, he was only eight the last time this happened.

          More howls chorused in the distance, they were far off but that didn’t seem to settle any of the negative energy buzzing through the village square. The Sheriff gave Argent a quick nod, and Argent proceeded to address the community.

          “It seems that, without warning us, the wolves are early this year. Get yourselves and your families safely to your homes and stay in for the night. The council will meet right now in the Silver Hall to discuss our next move and make an announcement tomorrow morning. Goodnight and be safe, all of you.”

          Stiles immediately looked over at his father, who sat next to him at the table they’d been feasting at.

           “What the hell is going on?” Stiles asked, eyebrows knitting together.

          “I’ll explain everything as soon as I get home, just go and wait for me there,” his dad said. His face was a mask of calm but there was a flicker of fear in his father’s eyes.

          Stiles obeyed and turned to head down the path to his home, where he spotted Scott, Allison, Jackson, and Lydia. Scott urged him to come over and join them. Their parents were all on the village’s council together, so not only did they live next to each other, they’d grown up together, the five of them. Except lately it seemed like everything was turning into Couple #1, Couple #2, and Stiles and His Right Hand. Not that he was bitter about the fact that everyone had paired up except for him. Not bitter at all.

          “Okay your grandpa runs the place,” he said to Allison as he approached. “So you have to know what the actual hell is going on. I know the wolves come every ten years, but what’s so terrible about them being early?”

          Allison bit her lip and shrugged.

          “I really don’t know to be honest with you. My father and grandfather are very tight lipped when it comes to the wolves. I’ve got just as much of a clue as to what’s going on as you do.”

          Well, that didn’t help in the slightest. He guessed he would just have to wait until his dad came home from the council meeting to figure everything out.

 

* * *

 

          The house Stiles and his father lived in was small, simple, and more or less a well-built wooden hut, as were the rest of the houses in the village. It had a living room, kitchen, bathroom, and two bedrooms. One was downstairs and belonged to his father; the other was basically a loft accessible by ladder. That was Stiles’ room. Everything in the village was simple. They were a simple people and had a simple way of life; they saw no need for extravagance.

          The village was large and completely independent. A forest surrounded it on all sides but one, where a large river bordered the clearing. They had their own fields full of crops, traps set for catching fish, and skilled hunters to bring home game from the forest. Everything and everyone in the village had a place, and Stiles was happy here, he told himself. And the only reason he kept reminding himself that he was happy here was because he liked constant reassurance. Right?

          Maybe it was just the curse of the teenager, but still, Stiles always felt like something was missing for him in the village. Like there was a piece that just wasn’t fitting for him here. All of his friends but Scott just passed it off as a side effect of his mother’s death. Saying he probably felt something was missing because he was missing _her_. And while he’d nod and smile along to that statement, he knew it wasn’t true. He’d felt like this even before his mother’s death.

          Scott would just grip his shoulder as if to say “I know man, something’s missing for you here” and sometimes someone else acknowledging and understanding that things just weren’t quite right for Stiles was all he needed. He was always thankful for Scott in those moments

 

* * *

 

           Later that night, when Stiles heard the door open, he quickly clambered down his ladder to see his father looking rather weary at the door. He motioned for Stiles to go sit in the living room while he went to the kitchen to grab his bottle of whiskey and a glass. Stiles immediately sat and waited, completely silent. His dad only ever drank when he was very stressed out.

          Sitting down in the armchair opposite the couch Stiles was currently sitting on, the Sheriff took a drink and sighed.

          “The wolves are early this this time,” he said quietly. “Normally they come every ten years on the exact same day ever since we can remember.”

          Stiles just nodded and stayed quiet, letting his father continue.

          “Usually they come at the end of autumn. Not at the end of spring. We were supposed to have six more months to figure everything out and make sure everything gets sorted,” his father rubbed his forehead, anxiety leaking into his voice.

          “What are they here for?” Stiles asked, finally finding his voice.

           “A human tribute,” his father answered, voice barely above a whisper.

          “Human…a _human_ tribute?” Stiles gasped. “I-I thought when you all talked about paying tribute to them we gave them money, or food, or _something._ Something other than a human sacrifice! Th-that’s so messed up. Who the hell thought to give a _person_ to a bunch of werewolves!”

          “It was one of the demands of a treaty made long ago,” his father said, quite calm like the fact that the crazy wolves wanted a living breathing human being from their innocent, simple village was normal. “I guess we could consider ourselves lucky that it’s only every ten years. I hear word that the other villages in the area pay tribute every other autumn.”

          “What?!” Stiles sputtered. “What exactly _happens_ to the human tribute?”

          His dad only shook his head.

          “We don’t know. We’ve never heard from any of the tributes after they’ve been taken and we’re not exactly in contact with any of the other villages, for safety reasons. I have a feeling Gerard knows. I have an even worse feeling that he won’t tell us because he can’t bear to.”

          Stiles shuddered at that thought.

           “So what now, you have to find a tribute? Shouldn’t that be easy? Just throw them a criminal from the jailhouse. One that deserves to die anyway.”

           The village was fairly peaceful but there were a few more-than-petty crimes here and there from time to time. He was pretty sure there was an attempted rapist or something in the village’s prison. Throw _him_ to the wolves. He was barely human anyways.

          The Sheriff paused.

          “There are certain…requirements for the tributes,” he said hesitantly. “They were listed in the treaty and the pack is very set on making sure these standards are followed.”

          “What are the ‘standards’?” Stiles asked curiosity piqued.

          His father’s face reddened a little bit, unless that was just Stiles’ imagination, and he refused to look Stiles in the eye as he spoke.

           "A young adult between the ages of 18 and 24, male or female wolves have no preference either way. Also they must be a person with good morals and in good standing with the community. Unmarried. And lastly, though it’s only uh…preferred instead of necessary, they like the tribute to be a virgin,” hid father said clearing his throat as he finished his sentence.

          “Oh. Uh, why do they prefer…virgins?”

          “Gerard said it’s to pay homage to the Roman goddess Diana or something along those lines. Goddess of not only the hunt and the woods and wild animals, but also the moon. And you know, werewolves, so I’m assuming any moon goddess is pretty important to them. And they apparently claim that Romulus and Remus, the founders of Rome, you know the story, raised by a she-wolf and such, were the first werewolves or something. Anyways, Diana was a virgin goddess so maybe that’s where the whole virgin tribute thing comes from I really don’t know I got all this information from Gerard and it sounds really ridiculous when you say it out loud.”

          Stiles laughed at that, but he was still a little freaked out by all the information. They sat in silence for a while until he finally broke the surface with the one question he’d been waiting to ask all night.

           “So when do they get here?”

          “The howls always start a week before they arrive. We have seven days to pick a tribute, which is very much so pushing it. It usually takes months to find the right person, talk it out, and go through the legality of the whole situation with the person and their family.”

          Stiles let out a low whistle. _Seven days. The wolves will be here in seven days._

          “Do they actually come into town?” Stiles asked. “Like, will we get to see them?”

          “No,” his father said, shaking his head. “Only one ever enters the village at a time. Whichever one is claiming the tribute. They approach the altar at the peak of the moon, take the tribute, and go. It takes less than five minutes if the tribute is fitting for the wolves, and the rest of the town is left unharmed.”

          “What if the tribute isn’t deemed fitting?” Stiles asked.

          The Sheriff shrugged, “We don’t know. They’ve yet to turn away one of our tributes. But I don’t want you out this full moon do you hear me? No sneaking off with Scott to check things out. It’s mandate that the rest of the village stay in their homes with their curtains drawn and doors and windows locked. No funny business, I’m serious.”

          Stiles nodded.

          “Now get to bed,” his father said, shooing him. “It’s been a long day and that’s enough information for one night.

          As Stiles climbed his ladder and crawled into bed that night, he wondered who the tribute would be. And what would happen to them.

        

* * *

 

           As the days progressed, Stiles could slowly see his father, as well as the other council members become more stressed. The village was filled with unease and the only noise was that of people’s tense whispers, if the council couldn’t pull through, who knew of the destruction the wolves would bring upon the village. They _needed_ a tribute, or lots of people were going to die.

         That’s what Gerard said at least at the town meeting for those of age (18 and above) the morning after the feast. Stiles thought the council hoped it would either convince someone to step forward, or scare the people enough so that when the time came they would have no quarrel with who was picked as tribute. The village had two days until the wolves arrived. Things were not looking too good.

         Not surprisingly, no one came forward to volunteer themselves.

         But there was an idea in Stiles head. An idea that had been festering ever since he lay in bed the night after his father told him everything. It was a mad idea. A completely idiotic, stupid, suicidal idea. But the village was desperate.

         What if Stiles were to be the tribute? He would admit, he was no hero. The idea scared the shit out of him. But he _could_ technically be chosen. He was the right age, in good standing with the community, definitely not married, and _definitely_ a virgin.

         There was really no future for him in the village. Sure, there was his father and his friends, but other than that, there was nothing. No one Stiles could see spending the rest of his life with (it seemed almost everyone had found significant others already anyways, and damn they’d all hopped on _that_ train early) and he wasn’t even saying that to be an angst-ridden teenager. Unless some new person stumbled into the village and magically fell in love with him, there was no one for him here.

         Might as well take one for the team and go out honorably, right?

         When he mentioned this to Scott, he looked at Stiles like he’d lost his mind, though he admitted Stiles’ argument for doing so was completely valid. Maybe the wolves didn’t kill, maim, and/or eat the tributes. Maybe they just took them into their society or something and turned them into werewolves to expand their pack and power. It was so highly unlikely but Stiles totally wouldn’t mind supernatural powers.

         Scott and the rest of his friends would move on eventually. It would be the hardest on his father, especially after losing Stiles’ mother. But he had friends, lots of them, and a newfound comfort in Ms. McCall (that had been _years_ in the making if Stiles were being honest) and in time his dad would move on too. He would understand, especially because what Stiles was doing was all for the greater good.

         Plus, as of currently, this was all hypothetical.

         He wasn’t going to volunteer though, he told himself, unless the situation absolutely called for it.

         As it turned out, the situation absolutely called for it.

         Allison’s father, Chris Argent, came over the night before the wolves were to come to make the final arrangements with the Sheriff. His dad thought he was out running amok with Scott somewhere instead of hiding in his attic bedroom so the men didn’t feel the need to keep their voices down.

         As it turned out, they _had_ chosen a tribute, or Gerard had chosen a tribute, Elaine Littlefield. She was a pretty thing who had just turned 20. She was sweet, kind, and innocent and Stiles absolutely cringed at the thought of leaving her to the wolves. She fit all of the requirements, but something didn’t sit well with Stiles. There was something, and he couldn’t quite think of it, other than her sweetness that made his heart ache at naming her tribute.

         Oh god. He remembered. She had been dating this boy, Douglas, since they were fifteen. Douglas was friends with him, Scott, and Jackson, and he specifically remembered the day before the festival started Douglas saying he was going to propose to Elaine at the end of the festival on the night of the full moon, the full moon fell on the summer solstice this year and it was good luck or something like that. Oh no. No, no, no, no, no. This wasn’t okay. It wasn’t fair. Elaine and Douglas deserved a happy ending.

         He was started from his thoughts from the scraping of chairs as the men below him stood.

         “I guess that’s it then,” his father said glumly.

         “There are few others eligible this time around, and Gerard’s word is law,” Chris said. “Unless someone comes to us before noon tomorrow, then Elaine Littlefield is our tribute.”

         Stiles heard footsteps and the opening and closing of the front door, as well as a sigh from his father.

         Stiles fell back on his bed and covered his face with his hands.

         He knew what he had to do. 

 

* * *

 

           The next morning Stiles stopped by Scott’s to inform him of his decision. Scott’s face crumpled at the news and it was all he could do to wrench Stiles into a bear hug so tight it left Stiles gasping for air. When Scott finally let go he put his hands on either of Stiles’ shoulders and squeezed.

         “Just know that no matter what I support you. I may not agree with this for my own selfish reasons of never wanting to lose you as a friend. But what you’re doing for Elaine and Douglas is noble. Just, I’m going to miss you so much,” and with that Stiles was pulled into another bear hug.

         Scott’s words did _not_ have him sniffling a little on his death march to the Silver Hall, thank you very much. He just had allergies to all the pollen in the air. As he reached the doors and gripped the handle he took one last deep breath before wrenching them open dramatically. Hey, he could be dead by the peak of the moon tonight, might as well play up the theatrics. The council stared at him in confusion, and he could almost _feel_ his father’s eyeroll, so Stiles knew he had to get the words out. With his heart pounding and head swimming, and before he knew it the words came spewing out of his mouth like vomit.

         “I volunteer,” He gasped. “I volunteer as tribute.”

 

* * *

        

          The council was quiet for a few moments, but finally his father spoke.

          “Stiles,” he croaked. “No, you can’t.”

          Gerard clapped his hand together and stood up, a smile that made Stiles sick to the stomach plastered across his face.

          “Your son will be a _hero_ Sheriff!” he said, gripping Stiles’ father’s shoulders. “This is a noble thing he is doing, very noble indeed!”

          “Stiles please,” his father begged. Stiles could hear the _hurt_ and it broke him, but he had to do this.

          “Dad, I have no future here. You know that. I cannot let you take someone else’s future from them. So I’m offering myself up as tribute.”

         His father just dropped his face into his hands, shaking his head. The rest of the council, especially those he knew better than others, gave him looks of either pity or downright sadness.

         Gerard on the other hand seemed delighted.

         “Let’s get you washed, fed, and all groomed up for our guests tonight, shall we?” He motioned for his two attendants to come forward and with that, Stiles was whisked away.

         Before he knew it, Stiles was bathed, fed a hearty and delicious dinner (he tried not to dwell upon the fact that it was probably the last meal he’d ever enjoy), and dressed in all black, sitting in some room in the Silver Hall.

         They’d let his father come in after dinner for a tearful goodbye in which the Sheriff held his son like clinging to him could save him from what was to come. Stiles whispered over and over how sorry he was and his dad just continued to say “I love you, it’s okay” back. When an attendant came to escort him out, his father turned in the door and gave his son one last, long look.

         “I know you’re doing this for the sake of the village son, and I just want you to know how proud I am of you. No matter what happens to you out there tonight, I just want you to know how proud I am of you,” his father said voice breaking towards the end.

         “I love you dad, so much,” was all Stiles could choke out before they ushered his father out of the door.

         The attendants then motioned for Stiles to follow them. Gerard met him outside the door with what appeared to be a red cloak. He handed it to Stiles and told him to put it on. Gerard stood in front of Stiles and pulled the hood up over his head.

         “It’s symbolic,” he said, the creepy smile working its way back onto his face. “It represents an old fairytale from way back when about a child and a wolf. Very fitting, don’t you think?”

         Stiles just nodded and followed Gerard out of the Silver Hall, the two attendants flanking him. When they stepped outside, Stiles was surprised to see it was already very dark and the moon was well on its way to peaking in the sky.

         The people of the village gathered in the streets to watch Stiles make his way to the altar that was at the forest’s edge. Many murmured thanks or gentle, encouraging words. Some of the people that knew him well were crying. When he rounded a corner he saw Elaine and Douglas standing side by side, the look in their eyes screaming silent thanks. Scott must have told them. Lydia, Jackson, Scott, and Allison, were at the very edge of the village with their parents and Stiles’ father. Allison and Lydia were crying but the others just looked at Stiles in a way that said _we love you, we’ll miss you._

         Exiting the village, Gerard led him down a grassy opening and to the altar. Seven torches were arranged in a circle with a single log set in the middle. The attendants waited outside the circle, Gerard leading Stiles in and guiding him to sit down on the single log that sat vertically in the dead center of the circle. He moved behind Stiles to pull his hood down and arranged Stiles’ cloak to puddle into the grass behind him, and pulled the hood back from Stiles' head.

         Suddenly, the world went black.

         Oh, yeah, wait. That was just a blindfold. Really he could still see a bit of the light from the torches’ flames through it, so it wasn’t _too_ bad. He felt Gerard tie it snugly behind his head, and then there were lips at his ear.

         “Best of luck, Little Red,” he whispered and pulled the cloak's hood back up. Stiles shuddered at the creep factor of that sentence and basically Gerard in general because…ew. Gerard’s footsteps retreated, taking with them the nauseated feeling in Stiles’ stomach. He knew that right now the rest of village were hiding their kids, their wives, and their husbands as well as locking up their houses and pulling the curtains over the windows. Now all Stiles had to do was wait.

         Waiting was surprisingly terrifying yet boring at the same time and Stiles didn’t even know how that was possible. But he kept waiting.

         And waiting.

         And waiting.

         And, seriously wolfy? _If I’m gonna get killed and/or eaten can you please hurry it up a bit. All this waiting is playing on my anxiety_ Stiles thought to himself. After what seemed like a great deal more waiting, he heard it.

         Howls.

         His heart started beating at an alarming rate probably screaming to every werewolf in the vicinity “I’m here, come and get me!”

         And now that it was actually happening, Stiles was _so not ready to die._ Oh, god. He was going to die. Not only was he going to die, he was going to die a virgin. Well, he probably would’ve died a virgin anyway even if he’d had the chance to live to a ripe old age, let’s get real here people. But still!

         The howls grew louder, and closer, echoing through the night. Suddenly the howling stopped and it was eerily quiet until a single wolf let out a very long, loud, and distinct howl. And that’s when Stiles heard the rustling. Something was definitely emerging from the forest.

         He jumped and flailed a minute later when he felt hands placed lightly on his shoulder. He had no idea anyone was even _near_ him, the wolf was a quiet little shit holy god. He couldn’t help but struggle and squirm away from the wolf’s touch, almost falling off the log.

         “Woah, hey calm down,” a quiet voice said behind him, definitely belonging to a man. Stiles still struggled and two arms wrapped hesitantly and gently around him. Okay, yeah, that was some serious muscle. The wolf was _definitely_ a man. The gentleness, however, surprised Stiles, and he stilled for a moment.

         “Good, relax,” the pleasant voice said. “I’m not gonna hurt you.” The words snapped Stiles out of his sudden calm state. _Oh, like hell you won’t_ he spat at the man internally and began to struggle and flail again. The man behind him sighed and one of his arms let go of Stiles for a moment or two only to come back and grip him harder.

         “I was told that this wouldn’t be easy, you coming from _this_ village,” the man said. Why’d he put an emphasis on “this”, what did he mean by “ _this_ village”?

“I really don’t want to do this, I really don’t,” and the voice did sound sorry and genuine, but wolves were deceiving. “But you leave me with no choice. I’m sorry about this, in advance.”

         With no warning there was something at Stiles’ nose, he instinctually jerked back but managed to catch quite a good whiff of whatever it was. It was heady and thick and soon Stile’s head was swimming. The last thing he conscious brain registered was the gentle arms tightening around Stiles.

         _Oh god,_ he thought _, I’m dying._

         And this time, the world really did go black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I did in fact slip a hunger games reference in there.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the tags to add an OOC Peter because this was mostly written and planned out before Season 3 started and we learned in 3.08 "Visionary" that Peter was still manipulative and untrustworthy even before the whole Hale fire-coma-deranged alpha thing.  
> Also, Kate and Derek have never even met in this AU, so that changes some aspects of his personality just a little.

            When Stiles woke, albeit slowly and groggily, he was in a very large, very comfortable bed in a cozy, yet extravagant bedroom in what seemed to be a log cabin of some sort. It took a familiar voice in the next room over to remind him of the events of the past few days. Stiles jerked up, suddenly freaking out internally. So he was still alive. For now.

            It took him a second to realize that the familiar voice was frantic and accompanied by another voice, this one female.

            “Laura, why isn’t he awake yet?” the male voice questioned frantically. “Oh my god, did I kill him? Or maybe he’s in a deep sleep like that one story-”

            “Sleeping Beauty?” the female voice, Laura, inquired.

            “Yes! That’s the one. But seriously Laura, you were the one who gave me the stuff to put him to sleep cause you said you had to use it on Shawn and oh god Laura seriously if you killed him I swear-”

            “DEREK,” the female voice snapped. “If you would calm down for half a second then you’d be able to hear quite well that he is indeed still alive. And kind of freaking out.”

            Stiles’ eyed widened and he internally cursed his telltale heart for going all rabid and alerting his…uh, hosts to the fact that he was awake. He momentarily forgot about the fact that they were werewolves and could therefore hear, smell, and see _everything_ so he guessed they would’ve picked up his change in heartbeat from waking up either way. He made a mental apology to his heart and decided to curse werewolf senses instead.

            Figures at the door distracted him from his silent musings, and it seemed as if though he would have to get used to damn ninja wolves everywhere because Stiles didn’t hear a single sound and then _bam_ two people were staring at him sitting awkwardly in someone else’s bed.

            Two very good-looking people, he might add. Both were quite tall, though it seemed the woman was 3-4 inches shorter than the man. They were obviously siblings, either that or wolves were inbred and all looked the same, they had the same dark hair, green-hazel-godwhatevenisthatcolor eyes, and faces that were very similar. _Wow_ were those nice faces.

            Before he could think, Stiles was blurting out, “So are you doing all this to lure me into a false sense of security? Like, are you guys gonna kill me or…?”

            Immediately the woman, Laura he was assuming due to previous conversation, burst into laughter, her brother didn’t seem too pleased with his sister finding what Stiles had said funny and immediately his facial expression was what Stiles could only describe as “grumpy.”

            “Sorry for laughing,” Laura said with a grin. Stiles kind of liked her already. “It’s just that’s almost exactly what Shawn said to me the first time we spoke after he became my tribute ten years ago. He was from your village, too. I’m Laura, by the way. And this is my socially incompetent brother Derek. You’re his tribute and he’s your…well he’s belongs to you as much as you belong to him now. And for that, I am sorry.” She looked at Derek and then looked back at Stiles and smiled.

            Stiles didn’t know what to make of the whole situation, but his father raised him well so he just simply smiled and replied, “I’m Stiles, it’s nice to meet both of you. And thanks for not killing me. I appreciate that, really.”

            Laura grinned and looked at Derek.

            “Ooooh, I like him, he’s funny _and_ pretty. I mean look at his face, and his _lip_ _s_ , Der,” she whispered to her brother under her breath, waggling her eyebrows, still grinning. Stiles wasn’t sure if he was supposed to hear it or not, but he did.

            Derek gave Laura a clearly exasperated look and grumbled something to her, to low for Stiles’ ears to hear.    

            “Alright, fine!” Laura growled back. “Stiles, we’ll leave you be so you can get dressed.  Just come on out when you’re done. Your clothes from yesterday are folded on the chair right there. Derek will get you more sometime today, won’t you Derek.”

            Derek just grunted, turned, and exited the room, Laura following after him. Stiles could hear them continue to bicker in low voices. As he exited the bed and stretched his sore muscles he blushed when he looked down and realized he was wearing someone else’s clothing, a plain white tee and flannel pajama pants. That meant someone had changed his clothes for him while he was out cold. The pants were the right length, maybe just an inch or so too long, but definitely made for someone bulkier than him, as was the white shirt. He could only guess that it meant they belonged to Derek, and he could feel his face getting even redder.

            He was still wearing his boxers, thank god, and he quickly pulled on the all-black clothing from the day before, setting the pajamas on the foot of the bed neatly folded. He wondered where the hell the red cape had gone, but at the same time he kind of really didn’t care.

            As he exited the bedroom he heard the bickers die down, but he was distracted from the siblings’ conversation by the home he was in. It was beautiful, absolutely beautiful. All wood and stone and everything that a cabin should be, at least from descriptions in the many books Stiles had read. He’d never seen a house this nice before. They simply didn’t have things like this in his village. Though the place was indeed extravagant, it wasn’t huge. It was actually kind of small. Stairs to the far left of the room led up to a loft of some sort, but the rest of the downstairs was one room and completely open. A stone fireplace sat against the far wall with squashy couches seated in front of it. The kitchen was open with a simple single high table with four barstools around it, and the countertops were made of something Stiles had only seen in the Silver Hall…granite. He was gaping and he knew it, but he couldn’t find the will in him to care. This was the nicest house he’d _ever_ been in.

            Laura laughed at Stiles from where she sat at the high kitchen table.

            “Isn’t the place nice?” She grinned. “I guess it pays off to be the bachelor nephew of the Alpha, huh? My house on the other hand is in a constant state of terror due to my children. They’re seven and four and I think some dark force somewhere is feeding into them because there is no way in hell that any child has _that_ much energy. Saturday mornings are always the worst, too. Speaking of which, Shawn’s probably at his wit’s end with them right now, I should really get going!”

            She grabbed her bag off the table and hopped down off the barstool, ruffling Stile’s hair as she passed.

            “If my brother gives you any trouble, you let me know okay? I only live a few houses down, there’s a giant ‘H’ on my front door, you can’t miss it,” and with that she was out the door. Stiles really liked Laura, but he felt as if she’d be exhausting to have as a sister.

            Derek cleared his throat in the kitchen.

            “I, uh, made pancakes…if you want some.”

            At the word ‘pancakes’ Stiles immediately perked up. The situation had completely distracted him from his hunger. Looking at the clock he almost fell backwards, it was past noon, which meant he’d been knocked out for almost twelve hours. Which, yeah, kind of freaked him out a little bit and apparently spiked his heart rate because Derek whipped his head in Stiles’ direction.

            “Are you okay?” Derek asked immediately. “You sound like you’re panicking.”

            “Uh, sorry I just didn’t realize I’d been asleep for so long.”

            Immediately, Derek looked guilty.

            “Yeah, look I am really, _really_ sorry about that. I basically drugged you and that is not okay under any circumstances but the situation called for it, and I panicked, and-“

            “Dude, it’s okay, ” Stiles interrupted. “I was totally freaking out, out there last night. Look, it made things easier for you _and_ for me. Also, due to the fact that I didn’t even think I’d get to live to see today, it’s very low on the list of the horrible things that could’ve happened to me last night so really it’s no biggie. We’ll jut overlook it and not mention it again if it makes you feel guilty.”

            Derek looked like he was about to speak again, but was interrupted by a loud growl that came from Stiles’ stomach.

            “I think that’s my stomach butting in to say that we should just drop it and leave whatever happened last night in the past, okay? I also think it’s saying that Stile’s is absolutely starved and would love a plate of pancakes.”

            Derek’s mouth twitched, and Stiles wondered what it would take to coax a full smile out of him. Still, he’d take a mouth twitch over the grumpy expression from earlier. Derek placed a plate of warm, fluffy pancakes in front of Stiles, already drenched in syrup and leaned back against the counter, watching as he ate.

            “So,” Stiles began in an attempt to break the silence. “Your Uncle’s the Alpha, which makes you a Hale, right?”

            Derek nodded and said, “I know you have a lot of questions. And I’ll answer all of them, eventually. If I tell you everything right now you probably won’t believe me. And you may or may not go into shock due to information overload. But give us, myself and the others of my clan, time and a chance to show you that we’re not the bad guys, okay?”

            “What do you mean I probably won’t believe what you have to tell me?” Stiles asked.

            Derek hesitated.

            “It’s…complicated. You’ll get your answers eventually, trust me,” was all he said on the subject. “But, finish your pancakes, I’m taking you into the village to get you clothes and such. We can talk more later.”

            Shoving the last bits of his breakfast into his mouth, Stiles put his plate and fork into Derek’s sink.

            “I just have one last question before we go,” Stiles said hesitantly. It had been on Stiles’ mind all morning.  Derek nodded for him to ask. “So, I’m the tribute, and I have no idea what the hell my purpose is here. But Laura said that I’m _your_ tribute, specifically yours, and that I belong to you and you to me. What…what exactly does that mean?”

            Derek stiffened visibly at the question. He pondered for a moment before finally answering, vaguely.

            “It means exactly what you want it to mean. Nothing more, nothing less. It’s all up to you, the choice is yours in this, and I won’t ever force anything from you. Look it’s-”

            “Complicated and you’ll explain later,” Stiles interrupted, exasperated. “Yeah, yeah. I get it.”

 

* * *

 

            The walk into town was quiet. It was a comforting silence, which was strange for Stiles because the only other people he could do the totally comfortable silence thing with were his dad and Scott, two people he’d known his whole life. Maybe it was due to the fact that Stiles was too fascinated by his surroundings to engage in any sort of conversation. This village wasn’t just one large open space like Stiles’. Actually, it mostly just seemed to be a community of cabins in the woods. Derek’s cabin was way off the beaten path, definitely further away from the village center than any of the others. Though the other cabins were closer together, they were still pretty spaced out. It seemed the further they walked down the dirt road the closer the cabins got to each other.

            “It’s for privacy reasons,” Derek said, as if reading Stiles’ mind. “That’s why some of the cabins are far off, like mine, and some of them aren’t. Some people want to keep to themselves more than others. In a settlement full of werewolves it’s hard to find privacy in close quarters. Super-hearing is a blessing and a curse, some of us don’t exactly want to know what our neighbors are doing 24/7, others don’t really mind. We’re a very tight-knit community but I still find it weird to be honest.”

            “Oh,” Stiles said and then paused as the true meaning of Derek’s words set in. “ _Oh_ ,” he repeated, wrinkling his nose. Basically what Derek was saying was that some of the wolves could handle hearing their neighbors shacking it up in the middle of the night better than others.

            “So, how much clothing am I gonna need?” Stiles asked, eager to divert the conversation.

            “Enough for a little over a month. At the next full moon following the one at the end of this coming week you have the choice to stay or go.”

            “I have a choice?” Stiles said, surprised. He was starting to think he was going to be kept as Derek’s pet or something for the rest of his life.

            Derek shot him a look that was almost appalled, “Yes, you have a choice. There are certain…bonds included when a wolf takes a tribute, but they can be broken once the first month is over. A tribute is never forced into anything they don’t want. You’ve always had a choice.”

            His last words held a double meaning, Stiles could tell.

            “You know I volunteered?” he asked.

            “I know you volunteered,” Derek affirmed, not meeting Stiles’ eyes.

 

* * *

 

            By the end of their shopping adventure, Stiles was loaded down with a handful of new shirts in an array of colors, both long sleeved and short sleeved, a red sweatshirt, boxers, pajamas, and three pairs of jeans. Stiles had worn and owned plenty of jeans before but none of them fit like _this_. He didn’t want to be conceited but damn did they make his ass look fantastic. Even the shirts fit him better than any other shirt he’d ever worn in his life. It seemed everything in the Hale village had an extra edge of lavishness to it. Everything was just so _nice._ Stiles had never been surrounded by so much luxury before; it was distracting to say the least.

He was overwhelmed by the village itself, too. As they reached the village center Stiles could discern that it really was too big and bustling to be called a village. “Town” seemed like a more appropriate word. The village center was the only space in the Hale’s territory that seemed to be clear of trees. In the clearing there were wooden buildings everywhere and people ambling about chatting and laughing. It had things like a grocer’s store, a bakery, general store, and even a sweets shop. Stiles didn’t even know things that that existed outside of his books or stories of other villages.

            However, nothing was quite as distracting as Derek. Stiles watched him closely as they perused the clothing store. Though he came off rather impudent, he was polite and kind to the storeowner and employees.  He had long eyelashes that dusted across his cheekbones when he blinked or looked down, and Stiles still couldn’t decide what the hell color his eyes were. He moved with a fluid grace that was uncommon for someone with his height and build.  Stiles had definitely knew for a long time that he swung both ways, but looking at Derek he was certain he’d never been this attracted to someone before.

            It made him feel better when he realized he wasn’t the only one distracted. He’d caught Derek staring more than once and his gaze wasn’t annoyed, it was curious and kind of soft and it made Stiles’ heart jump in a way that freaked him out. The more time he spent with Derek, the more attached he grew to him, which Stiles didn’t understand at all, because they’d barely touched and spoke little. It had only been a few hours; normally it took _weeks_ for Stiles to get attached to someone. It didn’t make sense, but Stiles guessed he could bring it up later, if he actually got some nerve.

 

* * *

            Later, when they exited the shop, two guys who seemed around Stile’s age greeted Derek. One had a mop of sandy blond curls and the other was dark-haired with obviously exotic features.

            “Hey,” Derek nodded to the guys. “Hope you’re both doing well. This is my tribute.”

             The look that both boys gave Derek made Stiles think they knew  _exactly_ who he was.

             Stiles raised his hand in greeting anyways, "I'm Stiles."

            “Hey Stiles, I’m Isaac,” said the blond tipping up the corner of his mouth.

            “And I’m Danny,” said the dark-haired guy, flashing a smile that Stiles swore could probably blind someone.

            “Nice to meet you guys,” Stiles said back politely.

            “I can smell my uncle and I kind of need a word with him,” Derek said abruptly, turning to Stiles. “Would you mind waiting here with the two of them and the bags of clothes for like five minutes? I’ll be right back.”

            Stiles nodded, it really wasn’t a big deal, and he could be left on his own. It wasn’t like he was a toddler or something. However, as Derek started to walk away Stiles felt a weird pull accompanied by the sudden urge to follow him, it was weak, but it was still enough to get Stiles’ attention. Derek stopped dead in his tracks and looked back at Stiles, eyebrows furrowed. After a second or two he shook his head and kept walking.

            “Ah, the mate bond,” Danny said knowingly with a grin.

            “The _mate what_?” Stiles shot back, aghast.

            “Technically as Derek’s tribute, you’re also his mate, if only for the month,” Isaac said. “Being his tribute, and thereby his mate, you are bonded to him, and he is bonded to you. So much so that you actually feel physical separation…well, physically.”

            “So every time he walks away I’m going to have the urge to follow him,” Stiles deadpanned, raising his eyebrows.

            “Basically,” Danny said. “It only grows as time goes on and the pair bonds on their own, emotionally and physically. It’s actually harder on the wolf than it is on the human, if the mate is a human that is. When it’s two wolves it’s even worse. Basically, physically separating any pair of mates is just one giant angst fest.”

            “What if the bond is broken after the first month?” Stiles questioned, thinking back on Derek’s words from earlier.

            Isaac shrugged, “Supposedly any of the mate bond ‘side affects’ go away when the bond is broken. No one really knows for sure though.”

            “Why?”

            “Because,” Danny said, “no one’s ever broken a mate bond before, not recently at least.”

            “Wolves are attentive to their mate's every need, as well as monogamous,” Isaac added. “When they’re mated to someone, it’s the only person they will ever want. It’s really an ideal quality in a partner, especially to humans. It’s really rare for things to not work out.”

            “Not only that, but for a mate bond to even be made both people have to be compatible, physically and mentally,” Danny said, raising a brow. “The wolf side choses their mate based off instinct, but there has to be something there for the human side too. So really, the two people would probably be together with or without the mate bond. The bond just intensifies everything.”

            _Great,_ Stiles thought.

            “What does this have to do with me specifically being  chosen by Derek as his tribute?”

            “That night,” Isaac began, “all the eligible wolves within the same age of your tribute age restrictions were the ones out howling. I was one of them. We ran through the forest in our shifted forms. I know you heard us. Remember when we all howled and quieted and then there was a single howl? That was Derek’s wolf claiming you as his tribute. He quickly shifted fully into his human form and went out to get you. It didn’t surprise any of us that it was Derek. It seems like it’s almost always a Hale that claims the Argent tribute. There have been cases where it wasn't, but it's been decades. However, any further questions you have about this whole mess you’re gonna have to save because Hale’s about to be within earshot in 3…2…1…bingo. Well, I guess we’ll see you later Stiles.”

            “If you ever see us out and about, feel free to come say hi, I enjoyed talking with you,” Danny said smiling. “Later Stiles!”

 

* * *

 

             The conversation with Isaac and Danny had him very anxious for the night’s round of Q & A. He knew Derek could sense it, too. They talked little on the walk home, but Stiles was starting to get used to the silence. By the time they were back to Derek’s it was time for dinner, which was also a quiet affair. The dinner itself was delicious, and if nothing else Stiles could always just stick around for the food, but the meal was tense, Derek kept shooting Stiles anxious glances. After they’d both cleared their plates Derek told Stiles to go sit on one of the couches and grabbed the dishes from the table, placing them next to the sink.

            Derek had three couches, placed in a “U” formation with a coffee table in the middle, and Stiles chose one that faced another couch over the table. Derek walked up silently and chose the couch opposite Stiles.

            “I know you have a lot of questions,” Derek began, “so-”

            “When did you plan on telling me about the mate bond?” Stiles blurted, interrupting him. “And that by being your tribute I am, by default, also your mate?”

            Derek startled, eye’s wide, in obvious shock either at Stiles’ bluntness or question. Or both.

            “Who told you about the mate bond? It must’ve been Isaac and Danny earlier. They probably picked up on it when they saw me walk away and then hesitate to leave you,” Derek said. Okay that made Stiles feel a little better about the earlier situation.

            “It doesn’t matter who told me, seeing as it sure as hell wasn’t you,” Stiles gritted out between his teeth. “I had to find out that we were ‘bonded’ from two complete strangers!”

            “Stiles,” Derek’s voice was pleading, and Stiles realized it was the first time Derek had ever spoken his name to him. He had to admit; he liked the way it sounded coming from Derek’s lips. “I was going to tell you, I was. But I was saving that little bit of information for this specific conversation. Your morning was already confusing enough I didn’t want to load _that_ bit of news on you when you’d already had a traumatic experience the night before. What did they tell you…about the mate bond?”

            “They told me that your wolf chose me last night, though your human side had to agree with it which apparently you did ‘cause here I am. They also said the reason for…what happened earlier when you walked away was also due to the mate bond and that everything would only get stronger over time as we continue to bond ‘mentally and physically.’ Also that we’re compatible and something about monogamy, there’s probably more but I assume you already know all of this.”

            “Well they’ve got all their information right. You must understand that the tributes are important. Along with the treaty, tributes tie our villages together by being the mates of werewolves. Kind of like how royalty from different countries intermarry in order to keep peace. It's supposed to keep the Argents from attacking again, even though the first time around was hundreds of years ago.”

            “Woah, woah, woah, wait. I thought the treaty and the giving of tributes was to keep _you_ from attacking _my_ village? Not the opposite way around,” Stiles asked, confused.

            “ _Us_ attacking _your_ village?” Derek sputtered, taken aback. “Stiles, all this time we’ve been _protecting_ your village.”

            “What do you even mean you’re ‘protecting the village’? We’re completely self-sufficient. We grow, catch, or hunt our own food. We have our own industry, people own their own businesses. We’re not even in contact with any of the other surrounding villages. The only thing we need protection from is the werewolves!” Derek raised a single eyebrow at that and, okay not fair. Stiles had always hated anyone who could do the whole one-eyebrow raise because he very much failed at it.

            “Self-sufficient, huh?” Derek scoffed, breaking Stiles from his momentary distraction. “You do realize your village is surrounded by a forest on three sides; yet there are no night watches, guard towers, walls, _nothing._ Werewolves aren’t the scariest thing out there, and there are creatures and humans alike that would love to take the Argent clan down. That’s what we’re protecting you from.”

            “So in exchange for your protection you ordered us to give your clan a living, breathing human being once every ten years to be bonded to one of your wolves? Is that how this treaty goes?”

            “I don’t know what lies Gerard and his predecessors have been feeding you all, but that is _not_ how the story of the treaty goes.”

            "Then how does it go?” Stiles challenged.

            “It’s a long story, Stiles.”

            “Well, good thing for you, I’ve got time.” Derek sighed, but began to speak.

            “A little under two hundred and fifty years ago, Gerard’s great grandfather found out my people’s secret and waged war upon us out of fear. You must understand that wolves are really very peaceful creatures unless their pack, their children, their mates, or their territory is threatened. The Argents were threatening to decimate all of those things. That is the only reason we took up arms.

            “It was bad. They were humans; they had no chance against a clan of werewolves. But somehow, in the middle of all the fighting and warfare, the Alpha’s daughter and the Argent’s leader’s son met by chance and fell in love. She was a wolf, so they were bonded. When their families found out, they were furious, and ordered them to stay away from one another. Due to the mate bond, being far apart while their families fought was physically painful to the young lovers. The Hales were very obviously winning the war due to their enhanced speed and strength but when the Alpha saw the pain in his daughter’s eyes he halted the war and proposed a treaty. If the Argents minded their own business and left us alone, we would in turn leave them alone while protecting them from the many other horrors that walked the woods, ensuring their safety. The Argents, who were almost beaten, readily agreed.

            “My great-great-great grandfather was Alpha at the time, and he wanted more than just a tense peace. So he offered up a proposition. Argent’s son, as his daughter’s mate would come and live in the Hale village, and in exchange a wolf from the Hale village would find a mate among the Argents and live with said mate in the Argent village. Like I said earlier, it’s a tactic that’s been used countless times in history to bind two civilizations together. And it usually works out pretty well.”

            “Then how come there’s no werewolves in the Argent village?”

            “The Argents didn’t want ‘werewolf scum’ to taint their lineage. So instead they offered to let one of their own be bonded to a wolf once a generation to keep ties between the two villages. To the Alpha, it was better than nothing so he accepted the proposition. Argent’s son was the first tribute, and first human from another village brought in as a mate. It became more of a thing after that, though mates were found in other villages randomly, as they do not give up tributes. Ever since the war way back when it’s almost always been a Hale, whether closely or loosely descended from the Alpha, that’s claimed the Argent clan’s tribute.”

            Stiles was quiet for a long time.

            “I don’t know if I believe you,” he said finally.

            “What you don’t believe, the whole story in general or the fact that it was the Argents who started the fighting?”

            “I believe the whole star crossed lover boy turned tribute part,” Stiles answered. “I just don’t know what to believe about who started all the fighting in the first place. I’m still trying to figure out who the 'bad guy' is in all this mess.”

            “It doesn’t matter if you do or don’t believe me. What I’m telling you is the truth either way. But, that’s it for tonight. We’ll talk more about the mate bond and what it means tomorrow but for now, we should both get some rest. You can have my bedroom down here. There’s another bed in the loft, I’ll sleep there tonight.”

            Derek stood and Stiles followed suit, freezing when Derek approached him. He reached out slowly and traced his fingertips lightly down Stiles’ cheek, eyes soft. The touch was so affectionate that Stiles’ heart gave a squeeze of longing in his ches and his eyes fluttered shut.

            “Goodnight Stiles,” Derek whispered.

            When Stiles opened his eyes, the man was gone.

            Stiles lay in bed that night, tossing and turning, trying to make sense of everything that happened so far, and everything he’d been told. Something about the way Derek spoke expressed absolute surety in what he was telling Stiles. But if Derek was indeed telling the truth, then that meant Gerard had been lying to not only him, but the whole village for _years._ He just didn’t know who, or what, to trust anymore.

            Eventually, Stiles fell asleep. And so what if his body ached for a certain pair of arms around him to hold him through the night? He’d swear up and down that it was only because of the damn mate bond.       

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm terrible at making up my own descriptions of houses and such so here's a photo that the cabin's interior is based off of:  
> http://www.ciiwa.com/images/warm-and-welcoming-cabin-home-interior-ideas.jpg
> 
> Also, you can find me on tumblr at alphamcbootycall.tumblr.com


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> update: 2/21/14  
> again with the tweaking, but I did add something to this chapter, while not important to the overall story was still something I felt needed to be added/I should have included on the first go around. Check the end notes for more info

            “So Shawn was Laura’s tribute ten years ago, that makes her how old?” Stiles asked the next morning over breakfast. The omelet Derek had made him was so good it was almost sinful.

            “Twenty-eight. Shawn is Thirty-two. Matthew is four and is their youngest. Their oldest is Naomi. She’s seven, turning eight at the end of the summer. Unless one of my cousins’ children gets there first, it will probably be Naomi with a tribute next time around, either her or my uncle’s daughter. It just seems that’s how things work.”

            “And how old are you?” He couldn’t believe he’d yet to ask Derek this question.

            “Twenty-two,” Derek said simply.

            Okay. Four-year age gap. Four years was totally socially acceptable.

            “So if Shawn and Laura met ten years ago and Naomi is almost eight, they must of gotten right into the swing of things huh?” Stiles asked.

            Derek nodded. “They got married when Laura was only nineteen and had Naomi when she was twenty. They were sickening to be around those first few years, really. Sickening, and inseparable. They were always all doe-eyed and giggly with constant dopey grins on their faces whenever they were around each other.”

            “It’s called love, Derek. Though it may be a foreign concept to you, I’m pretty sure-” Stiles broke off, a sudden thought entering his mind. “Oh god, will _we_ be like that eventually? Is it like a mate bond thing?”

            “I obviously know what love is, Stiles,” Derek said, glowering at his coffee mug. “And, no. It’s a Laura and Shawn thing. They pretty much, uh, jumped the gun right away. They absolutely _reeked_ of sex any time they came over to my parent’s house to visit. Of course I was only twelve at the times so I didn’t figure out what the smell meant until…well yeah later on.”

            Stiles’ mind reeled for a second. He’d never heard Derek talk about his parents before.

            “Where are your parents now?” Stiles asked quietly.

            Derek didn’t meet his gaze.

            “They’re dead,” He said finally.

            Stiles felt for Derek. He really did. He’d lost his mother a few years back, sure. But he couldn’t imagine loosing his dad along with her.

            “I’m sorry, Derek, I really am,” Stiles said gently. “I know it’s not easy. My mom died when I was thirteen.”

            Derek looked up at him abruptly, the expression in his eyes soft but otherwise unfathomable. He reached across the table and gave Stiles’ hand a gentle squeeze, conveying everything he couldn’t put into words through one simple touch. Stiles’ heart rate spiked a little at the physical contact.

            He didn’t let go of Stiles’ hand.

            Stiles cleared his throat and made an attempt at a subject change.

            “Wait, so not only can you hear when people…you know. But you can _smell_ it too? There really is absolutely no privacy when it comes to you all, I swear.”

            Derek chuckled a little at that, “I guess it’s weird from an outside point of view. But for us it’s kind of normal. It can be awkward at times, knowing exactly who’s doing what with whom and how often, but I guess it’s why we’re such a close community. That and there really are no secrets around here.”

            “Except the ones you’re keeping from me.”

            Derek clenched his jaw.

            “I’m not keeping secrets, Stiles. I’m temporarily withholding information for your benefit,” Derek grumbled. “Besides, if you want to talk about secrets you should really take things up with Gerard Argent. It seems he’s been keeping his fair share of secrets, too.”   

            “What do you even mean by that?”

            “There’s a lot of things about him that you don’t know,” Derek said darkly. “Forget I said anything.”

            “No, you can’t do that,” Stiles said, raising his voice and snatching his hand out of Derek’s so he could cross his arms over his chest. Derek flinched back, the hurt evident in his eyes. “You can’t just say something all cryptic and then not tell me what you mean by it!”

            “Listen, the less you know about Gerard, the better,” Derek said seriously. “The less you know about this whole mess in general the better! Especially if you’re leaving at the end of the month.”

            “Seeing as you’re the one who dragged me into ‘ _this mess_ ’ you’d think-”

            “I didn’t drag you into anything, Stiles,” Derek said with an edge to his voice. “You volunteered and my wolf claimed you.”

            “Yeah, but do you think I _wanted_ to volunteer? I did it out of necessity! For my friends and my village. I never wanted this, Derek. Any of it!”

            Derek turned his head, once again refusing to meet Stiles’ eyes and Stiles immediately regretted his words.

            “I…I didn’t mean it like that, I-”

            “Yes,” Derek cut in, “you did.”

            Great. He had to live with the dude for the rest of the month and he’d already pissed him off.

            “I, uh. I’m gonna go take a shower,” Stiles muttered. Derek just nodded.

            He trudged across the kitchen and into Derek’s bedroom closing the door and shucking off his clothes. The bedroom had a large, in-suite bathroom with a shower and separate tub. As therapeutic as a bath sounded, Stiles opted for a shower.

            The argument left him frustrated and guilty at the same time. But mostly frustrated. Mate bond his ass. It had been less than two days and they were already fighting. The strangest thing was that it upset him more than anything. He’d gotten in an argument with someone who was basically still a stranger to him and he was more distraught by it than any other time he’d fought with anyone else.

            He stayed in the shower until the water ran cold, mind wandering here and there. When he finally got out, dried himself off, and got dressed he picked a random book off of a bookshelf in the room and plopped down on the bed to read. The book was actually pretty good and Stiles was getting into it when there was a tentative knock on the door.

            “Come in,” Stiles said nervously. He was kind of afraid that Derek would still be keyed up about their earlier disagreement, but as he entered the room slowly Stiles could tell by the man’s expression and posture that he was just as upset by the whole ordeal as Stiles was.

            Derek hesitated before sitting on the edge of the bed by Stiles’ feet.

            “I’m sorry for raising my voice at you,” He said quietly.

            “I should be the one apologizing,” Stiles said. “I yelled at you first, so I kind of started it.”

            “I just…” Derek began. “I don’t want to fight any more. Okay? No more fighting.”

            “Yeah, okay. That sounds like a deal to me,” Stiles said, voice caught in his throat. He _had_ started it to be honest. And he’d continued to raise his voice at Derek while Derek stayed relatively calm. He was getting let off the hook pretty easy.

            Derek got up and walked towards the doorway, pausing before he left the room and turning to address Stiles.

            “There’s a big to-do in the clearing tonight,” Derek began. “One of the many celebrations for the upcoming full moon on the solstice. It’s a feast and there will probably be some huge bonfire and my uncle requested we come so he could meet you. If you’d rather stay in that’s fine, too but-”

            “No, I’ll go,” Stiles cut him off with a weak smile. “I’m not one to miss a feast.”

            Derek relaxed and returned Stiles’ smile, and though it was as weak of one as the smile Stiles had given Derek, any smile from him was progress.

 

 

           

* * *

 

            Whatever “ _the clearing”_ was, it was in the total opposite direction of the village center, and so Stiles got to see more of the rest of the community. There were what looked like will-o-the-wisps floating atop posts on either side of the paths and, wow, Stiles didn’t even know those existed out of folklore and fairytales. He assumed they were for the human members of the town seeing as the wolves supposedly had night vision.

            The walk was fairly quiet between the two of them. They followed others who were also heading for the feast down the path and Stiles could hear faint sounds of music, conversation, and raucous laughter up ahead. Though it was June, the night was chilly and Stiles, only having worn a short-sleeved shirt, shivered and hugged his arms around his chest.  

            Derek held out an arm, gently grabbing Stiles’ bicep and pulling him to a stop. He shrugged out of his black leather jacket and held it out to Stiles.

            “Here, wear my jacket.”

            Stiles froze for a second, as he took in the sight of Derek in a grey Henley that clung to his chest and arms a little too nicely for Stiles’ comfort. He stared for a few seconds longer than was probably necessary before squeaking out, “Why?”

            “Firstly, because it’s cold, and as a werewolf I don’t need it. Secondly,” Derek’s voice lowered as he leaned in closer, “I want the other wolves to know that you’re mine.”

            And okay _yeah_ Stiles probably shouldn’t find the whole possessive thing as hot as he did, but oh god did he find it really, _really_ hot. He involuntarily shuddered a little bit but took the jacket and put it on anyways. Derek look pleased. Either at the fact that Stiles was wearing his jacket, or at the effect he’d had on him. Or both.

            They continued walking and as they entered the clearing (which was basically a _huge_ , completely open circular field within the forest) Stile’s jaw actually dropped. His village had festivals and feasts but nothing at all like this. There were tables upon tables of such copious amounts of food that he actually had to make sure he wasn’t dreaming for a moment there. Even more astounding than that was the gargantuan bonfire that blazed in the center of the field. Stiles idly wondered how the hell they were going to put that thing out.  Some sort of little folk band played a catchy tune over by one of the tables, and children pranced around them, giggling. People were laughing and talking and drinking and even though the settlement was pretty big there was a sense of family that Stiles never really felt back in his old village. Maybe it was a wolf thing, a pack thing. Whatever it was, Stiles envied it. Derek seemed to sense that and looked at Stiles.

            “What is it?” He asked.

            “You all seem like one huge family,” Stiles said. “Like a pack.”

            “Well, most of us are wolves,” Derek said quirking one side of his mouth up.

            “You know what I mean,” Stiles rolled his eyes. “Just…I kind of envy it. I never had a big family. No siblings. I mean I have great friends back home and everyone in my village is friendly, but we all mostly keep to ourselves. I dunno, having a pack, it just seems really…nice,” and that was such a lame word to sum up his feelings but at the moment it was all he had to describe what he meant by it.

            Derek looked like he was about to say something when a high-pitched squeal of excitement interrupted him before he could even start.

            “Speaking of family,” Derek muttered under his breath as Laura made a beeline for them.

            She grinned when she reached them, giving Stiles a once over.

            “I like your jacket,” She said, waggling her eyebrows. “Looks good on you.”

            Stiles blushed furiously at that, but Derek ignored her.

            “Where are Shawn and the kids?” He asked.

            “Matthew fell asleep into his mashed potatoes and Naomi was whining about being tired so he took them home,” She shrugged. “I would’ve gone with but we have business to attend to with Peter about the full moon after dinner so I couldn’t really leave.” 

            Derek groaned, “I almost forgot about that.”

            “Wait, why do you have to meet with Peter about the full moon?” Stiles questioned.

            “Well, firstly,” Laura said, “we’re kind of a settlement of _werewolves_ Stiles. And while most of the adults can control themselves there are some who can’t so we set up patrols around the village to make sure no one goes ballistic and wanders off or attacks someone. We also really have to keep an eye on the teenagers too, because most can’t control themselves. Their parents usually know how to deal with what the full moon brings, but shit happens sometimes and a kid gets loose.”

            “More importantly,” Derek butted in, looking directly at Stiles. “Remember when I told you there were other things out there, worse than us, that we’ve been protecting you from? There’s another pack of werewolves out there, a fairly large one, and they’re feral. They’re completely animalistic and there is very little humanity left in them. Almost all of them can take on the shape of an actual wolf and when they’re not in wolf form they’re in the half-human form we take on when we fully shift. We have patrols, Laura and I are the head of them, that go out and ward them off from not only our settlement but your village as well as the other mostly-human villages surrounding us.”

            “They’re dangerous because they can’t control themselves, they’ve really lost their human side to their wolf. And they’re the worst under the influence the full moon,” Laura explained. “The only one of us who can take on a full wolf form is Peter, and that’s because he’s an Alpha.”

            “There is almost always an attack on the full moon, though they rarely ever get close to any of the villages due to our patrols,” Derek explained. “Otherwise they attack randomly and sporadically, so we have night watches and daily patrols to keep an eye on everything. They’ve been getting more and more ferocious as time passes so we have to tighten up.”

            They fell into a tense silence after Derek finished speaking, only interrupted by a quiet growl of Stiles’ stomach. Laura laughed and put an arm around Stile’s shoulder.

            “Let’s get you some food.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

            After meeting Peter, who shook his hand, smiled (Stiles still couldn’t decide whether his smile was infinitely creepy or infinitely charming), and said simply “You must be Stiles. Welcome to the pack,” Stiles followed Derek over to one of the many tables overflowing with food and filled a plate.

            They returned to Peter’s table, Peter sat at the head of the table looking down its length at all the people seated and eating. Laura sat to one side of Peter and Derek took his place on the other side motioning for Stiles to sit next to him. People along the table eyed Stiles curiously. Some returned to their food others continued to stare.

            Anxiety flooded him. Almost immediately there was the warm pressure of Derek’s hand on his thigh followed by a soft knead. When Stiles stole a glance at Derek, he was conversing with Peter in a murmur.   

            “Ignore the stares,” Peter said, bringing his conversation with Derek to a halt. “Only important people ever sit at my table, so they’re not used to newcomers. As a Hale’s tribute you are _very_ important, Stiles.”

            Stiles just nodded and took a bite of his roast beef.

            “I never got to take part in the tradition myself,” Peter continued. “I wasn’t the right age at any of the ten year marks. No matter though,” he smiled, and this time it was actually genuine and not creepy. “I found Odessa while I was on patrol once, way before I became Alpha. She was on the run and was lost and terrified in the woods. She’d been turned by one of the feral wolves and had been kicked out of her village. I took one look at her and, well, I’ve been a goner ever since.” He smiled fondly towards a woman with curly red hair standing by the fire with a child that looked about twelve. When she felt the looks from Stiles and the three wolves she turned and beamed at Peter and Stiles couldn’t help but wonder if every couple around here was just sickeningly in love.

            "Where are the others?" Stiles asked, looking at Derek.

            "Hmm?"

            "The other tributes, the ones from previous years?"

            "Well as I said, Laura was ten years ago," he pointed to the end of the table where a couple who looked to be in their late thirties or early forties sat. "My mom's cousin found his mate the ten years before that and my parents met three decades ago. Anyone beyond that is in their sixties or above and enjoying retirement, so you probably won't see them around as much."

            After the four of them finished eating, Laura and Peter stood and went to wait by the clearing’s entrance for Derek and the others on Peter’s council to join them. Derek rose and Stiles followed suit.

            “This hopefully shouldn’t take too long,” Derek said. “If you want to wait here Danny and Isaac are over by the fire or if you’d rather go back to my place that’s fine too, just either way please don’t wander off.”

            “Don’t worry about it,” Stiles said quickly. “I can wait here, it’s no problem.

            Derek paused before leaning in and giving Stiles a swift peck on the forehead. Stiles didn’t know how to respond so he simply just stood there dumbstruck, staring after Derek as he crossed the field to meet up with Peter, Laura, and whoever else was part of the full moon discussions.

            When Derek reached them and the rest of the group started to exit the clearing, Stiles quickly turned and headed for the fire, looking for Isaac and Danny.

            “Stiles! Over here,” Stiles swiveled and spotted Danny who was with Isaac and four others. Danny was sitting on one of the many logs set horizontally on the ground a good distance away from the fire, Isaac on his right. Stiles sat in the open spot to his left.

            “Stiles, this is Boyd and Erica,” Isaac said motioning to a dude that looked like he could break Stiles in half and a blonde girl who looked like she wanted to eat Stiles up after Boyd was done with the breaking. And not in the sexy way. “They’re mates. And that’s Thea and Thatcher,” Isaac pointed to the other two people. “They’re twins.” Thea and Thatcher had tanned skinned, caramel colored hair, and faces that almost put the Hale’s to shame. Keyword: almost.

            “Our parents did the whole cliché thing where they started our names with the same sound so it sounds pleasant when you say our names together,” the girl, Thea, said. “It’s lame and cool at the same time.” She smiled at Stiles.

            “Nice to meet you all,” Stiles said back politely. As the rest of the group fell back into conversation, Danny turned to Stiles.

            “So things seem to be spicing up between you and Hale, huh?” He asked, raising his brow and tugging on the jacket Stiles wore.

            “I don’t know about that,” Stiles said, face heating.

            “Oh, come on I saw that forehead action you got over there before he left. That was cute,” Danny taunted.

            “I dunno,” Stiles sighed. “I mean we’ve fought already. It’s been less than two days and we’re already fighting. Aren’t mates supposed to be all lovely-dovey like 24/7?”

            Danny laughed at that.

            “No, that actually isn’t the case,” he said. “Like yeah, mates are basically meant for each other and have a special connection and all that jazz, but they’re still like any other couple. There will be fights, and some pairs argue more than others. Each set of mate pairs is unique just like all regular human couples are unique. Arguments can be good. A little bit of arguing is healthy, as long as it’s not abusive. Plus arguments lead to apologizing which leads to make-up sex. And make-up sex is good, therefore by default arguing is good.”

            “Yeah. Derek and I are _not_ at that point yet. We are, like, nowhere near that point,” Stiles said.

            “And you won’t be,” Danny said. “Until _you_ do something about it. It’s kind of one of the rules, everything has to be completely consensual. Especially when the mate’s a human. It’s up to the human mate on how far things go, because frankly the wolf in the relationship will take what they can get. When it’s two wolves everything’s a little bit easier because all the instincts are coming from both sides instead of one. Two wolves chose each other and meet mutually in the middle, the wolf choses the human and sometimes it ends up one sided which is pretty heartbreaking to watch. It’s rare but it happens.”

            “So if I want things to happen, I have to make the first move?”

            Danny nodded, “You’ve gotta grow a pair and be a man, Stiles.”

            “I just…he seemed pretty pissed at me earlier and I don’t want to piss him  off,” Stiles sighed.

            “You didn’t piss him off, Stiles, you upset him,” Danny said. “You basically told him you didn’t want him and then mostly confirmed to him that you weren’t in this for the long haul when you didn’t contradict him saying you’d be leaving at the end of the month. And before you ask how I know that, I overheard him talking to Laura in the village center earlier today.”

            “No secrets,” Stiles muttered, more to himself than Danny.

            “Stiles, look. It’s hard for him. He’s been surrounded by perfectly matched couples his whole life, and now he’s found his mate and think his mate wants absolutely nothing to do with him.”

            “This whole situation is so confusing that I don’t even know what I want. Hell I barely know him. I thought after the other night I’d be dead, not in an instant relationship with a guy I’ve never met before.”

            “Then _get to know him_ ,” Danny said exasperated. “Really, what do you have to lose? You’re gonna be here for at least a month, do you think you can resist _Derek_ for that long? And why should you have to? Unless you’re saving yourself for marriage, which I doubt, or have someone waiting back home, which I also doubt because you volunteered.”

            “Ugh,” Stiles groaned, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just so much to think about.”

            “Then go somewhere quiet and think it through! God, you two are terrible. Seriously Stiles just go somewhere where you can sit and think alone for a little while before he comes back.”

            That actually sounded like a really good idea.

            “Thank you Danny. Really. When all this is over if everything ends well I’m totally gonna bake you a cake for all your advice, okay?”

            “I’ll be counting on that cake, Stiles,” Danny said with a grin.

 

 

 

* * *

 

            Stiles had been in the forest, still within earshot and easily viewing distance of the clearing because he was confused, not on a death wish, for twenty minutes. And it was nice, really. Relaxing to be able to just sit on the soft, loamy earth against the tree and just sit and be alone and revel in the quiet of the outside world while his mind went off at a million miles a minute.

            It was nice. Until he heard a crack.

            He immediately shot up, catching sight of a figure and squawking “Holy shit!” before he realized who it was. Enough light from the giant campfire permeated through the trees for Stiles to see Thea’s amused face.

            “Having a nice little brooding session in the woods?” She asked. “You’re more like Hale than you think.”

            “Oh my god, you scared the crap out of me!” Stiles shot back.

            Thea just smirked.

            “You really shouldn’t be wandering around the woods at night. You’re only human, after all.”

            A howl sounded in the distance.

            “You know what, you’re right,” Stiles said, making a move to get around Thea. “I should probably go back before-”

            A hand on his chest stopped him abruptly

            “Before what?” Thea asked. “Before Derek finds out you wandered into the woods? So not only do you disobey the only thing Derek told you not to do-”

            “What the hell? You were listening in on us?”

            “-but from what I can tell from you and Danny’s conversation,” she continued as if though Stiles hadn’t spoken, “you don’t even put out either. You’re a pretty shitty mate if I do say so myself.”

            “Is there _no privacy in this damn settlement_! Listen if you want Derek or something, if this is out of jealousy, then you’re gonna have to take that up with him cause-”

            Claws popped out from her fingernails and she pushed at Stiles’ chest, cutting his words off, and Thea laughed. _Laughed._ This bitch was crazy.

            More howls. Stiles was starting to question if they even belonged to the wolves of the settlement. Thinking back on Derek’s words from earlier about the feral words he shuddered.

            Thea seemed to take that the wrong way.

            “It’s not Derek I want, idiot,” she said, seduction dripping into her voice. “It’s you.”

            “Okay calling someone an idiot and then telling them you want them is really contradicting,” Stiles said. “Besides I met you like an hour ago, if you want me you obviously don’t know me well enough yet.”

            Thea removed her hand from Stiles’ chest and examined her claws instead.

            “I bet stealing the mate of such an authoritative, high-ranking werewolf would probably be a really awesome power trip,” her grin was vicious. “I bet you’d put out for me, huh Stiles? Is it because Derek’s a guy?”

            “Uh, no I’m actually down with all genders thank you very much, but I’m not really up for grabs at the moment so if you’d please,” Stiles said, once again attempting to move past Thea.

             “Oh, c’mon Stiles,” she purred, blocking his escape. “A beautiful girl is basically throwing herself at you and you do nothing about it?”

            “I have a mate. I don’t want you.”

            That _really_ pissed her off. The next thing he knew her hand, claws included, was at his neck.

            “ _Everybody_ wants me,” she hissed. Someone needed to deflate her ego.

            “Like I said, I’m kind of not on the market. And even if I was, I still wouldn’t want you.”       

            Thea growled and tightened the grip on Stiles’ neck.

            “Thea,” a very dark voice sounded from where the trees met the clearing. Thea immediately froze and removed her hand from Stiles’ neck. She took three very large steps back, revealing a _very_ angry looking Derek. His eyes glowed blue and were glued on Thea. Stiles couldn’t breathe.

            “If you go right now and leave Stiles alone, I won’t let my uncle know that you’ve been…fraternizing with my mate. You know how seriously Peter takes this.”

            Thea nodded, hanging her head and looking pretty remorseful for someone who was just talking all big and bad, and disappeared behind him into the clearing.

            “Stiles,” Derek said, his eyes finally moving to Stiles’ face. “I think we should go home.”

 

 

         

* * *

 

 

 _Shit, shit, shit, I’m so dead_ was playing on repeat in Stiles’ mind the whole walk home. The place had pretty much cleared out since Stiles had gone into the woods and there was almost no one around. It made for a very silent journey.

            Derek was _pissed_ this time. Not ‘upset’, _pissed._ Stiles could see it in every well-defined outline of his body as he followed behind feeling like a scolded dog following its owner with its tail between its legs.

            However, when they entered Derek’s cabin and the door closed behind them, Derek sagged visibly and slumped onto the couch with his head in his hands.

            Stiles was officially an asshole.

            He followed Derek to the couch and perched on the edge tentatively, afraid Derek would snap.

            After a moment, Derek spoke.

            “I should be furious at you right now,” He croaked.

            Stiles winced at the emotion in his voice, “I know.”

            “I asked you to not go wandering off. And you went wandering off into the _woods_ of all places, followed by some crazy bitch of a werewolf who would’ve done god knows what to you had I not gotten there when I did.”

            “Derek, I know. I’m sorry. I needed to just be by myself and think for a little. I know it’s no excuse, but it’s an explanation,” Stiles whispered. Derek was calm, so he wanted to stay calm too. He didn’t want to fight twice in one day.

            “I can’t even be mad at you right now because I’m just relieved that you’re okay. The feral wolves were out there tonight Stiles. When Peter and the rest of the council heard their howls I raced back to the clearing to find you, but you weren’t there.”

            Yeah. Stiles was a _major_ asshole.

            “And I panicked, all the worst scenarios instantly coming to mind. I wasn’t even mad at the fact that you’d wandered off. I was consumed with worry. But the field had pretty much cleared out so I heard _her_ perfectly.” Derek gritted his teeth a little at that. Remembering how Derek’s touches had calmed him twice that day he shifted closer to Derek on the couch and rested a hand softly on his taught back.

            Derek snapped up out of his hands at the touch and Stiles recoiled, afraid that he was going to start yelling again. But his face only twisted into an expression of desperation as he spoke again.

            “Stiles I get that you don’t like me, that you don’t want to stay here, okay? I know you don’t want me. That’s fine. But, just while you’re here you have to be careful what you do. You can’t go parading around with other people. It makes my wolf very jealous and there are instincts that are hard for me to control. And I can’t…no. I won’t lose control. Not around you,” Derek spoke quickly, as if he’d been holding the words back and now he couldn’t get them out fast enough. When he was finished talking he looked away, no longer able to look Stiles in the eye. Thinking back on his earlier conversation with Danny Stiles decided it was time to get shit done and be a man.

             He edged closer to Derek on the couch until their thighs brushed. He had a feeling that Derek was going to absolutely _ruin_ him because just a clothed thigh touch and the proximity had his heartbeat speeding up. Derek stiffened at the physical contact, but Stiles expected that. Reaching his arm across them both he cupped Derek’s jaw and gently turned his face so that they were eye-to-eye…and very close. Derek’s eyes widened, but he didn’t pull back.

             “I know you heard a good deal of the conversation between Thea and me earlier,” Stiles murmured, terrified that if he spoke too loud, it’d break them both out of the trance they were in. “I told her multiple times that I wasn’t available and that I didn’t want her. I also remember telling her that I have a mate.”

             Derek closed his eyes at the word, but Stiles continued.

             “I’m sorry I’ve been kind of a terrible one, by the way, but it’s been a rough couple of days for me and I’m kind of slow on the uptake.”

             Derek remained silent, still refusing to meet his gaze.

             “Derek,” Stiles breathed finally. “ _I want you_.”

             Derek’s breath hitched and his eyes flew open, hazel-green meeting amber, gaze incredulous. Stiles knew Derek could tell that he wasn’t lying by the way Stiles’ heartbeat kept steady and the probably apparent aroma of arousal in the air.

             “Stiles-” Derek began, but was cut off abruptly by Stiles placing a hesitant, sweet kiss to his lips. And Derek kissed him back. It was soft and warm and Stiles melted a little bit and really it was the best first kiss he could’ve ever hoped for.

             They broke apart for a moment, only to breathe and search each others eyes before Derek wrapped his hand around the back of Stiles’ head and pulled him back in, their mouths meeting once again. Derek’s tongue licked hesitantly at Stiles’ lower lip, seeking permission and Stiles gave it, parting his mouth to let Derek in. If Stiles knew kissing Derek would be like _this_ then he would’ve done it as soon as he woke up the first day and never stopped. The man seriously knew what he was doing, and though Stiles definitely lacked in experience he was at least going to try to make up for it with his enthusiasm.

             He shifted once again so that his leg swung over Derek’s lap. His knees were on either side of Derek’s hips, and if by the way Derek gasped into his mouth was any indication, he certainly hadn’t expected Stiles to straddle him on the couch. One of Derek’s arms came around his back and pulled Stiles in as close as was physically possible, but for Stiles it wasn’t nearly close enough. He slid a hand into Derek’s hair, fingers slipping through his silky locks. Experimentally, Stiles ground his hips down into Derek’s and was (not so) surprised to find both himself and Derek already half-hard. They broke apart at the sensation and Stiles didn’t even feel embarrassed about the sigh of pleasure he’d made at the contact because Derek had straight up thrown his head back onto the back of the couch and _moaned._ Stiles slumped forward, resting his forehead on Derek’s shoulder. Both of their chests were heaving and Derek was idly stroking up and down Stiles’ back as he began to talk.

             “Okay. We’re going to stop right here and I’m going to go upstairs and got to sleep and you’re going to stay down here and go to sleep because if you kiss me or do _that_ again I will literally not be able to stop myself and I don’t know if I can even sleep in the same bed as you without wanting to…I want us to at least try to pace ourselves when it comes to this okay?”

            “You’re rambling,” Stiles mumbled against his shoulder. “But okay.” And he couldn’t help but look over and smile dopily at Derek who smiled just as dopily back. Derek should really smile more often.

            “Oh god, we _are_ gonna turn into Laura and Shawn aren’t we,” Stiles muttered as he climbed off Derek and stood up, holding his hands out to Derek to help him up off the couch.  Derek grabbed his hands and stood, stepping into Stiles’ space. “I bet the whole lovesick puppy thing starts with the dopey grin. That’s the first symptom.”

            Derek chuckled and took Stiles’ hand, interlacing their fingers as he walked them to the downstairs bedroom door.

            “I’m serious,” Derek said, “about pacing ourselves, okay? I want to do this right.”      

            Stiles nodded, “Of course.”

            Derek leaned in and gave Stiles one last, soft kiss.

            “Goodnight, Stiles,” Derek murmured.

            Stiles couldn’t believe that just the night before Derek had said the same exact words to him. So much had happened in 24 hours.

            He made sure Derek could hear him loud and clear when he actually gave a reply this time.

            “Sweet dreams, Derek.”            

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My god this was a long chapter.  
> Let me just say, god bless Danny in this fic. He is done with this pining shit okay.  
> Look for the next update between the 12th-13th  
> As always, I'm on tumblr as alphamcbootycall.tumblr.com  
> Update: as i said in the notes at the beginning, I added just under 100 words of dialoge of Derek & Stiles talking about previous tributes. It was pointed out that other than Laura/Shawn I never mentioned any one else and I apologize for that!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *IMPORTANT: Please note the change in rating and tag updates!  
> Also, this was written before we knew the reason behind the different colored eyes so that's why all the born wolves' eyes are blue :)

            The thing about a kiss is that it changes everything about your own personal world, but everything around you stays the same. Stiles still woke up in the same bed, in the same house, and ate breakfast in the same place as he had the other mornings. But this time things were different. It was like things had shifted, the atmosphere was lighter. The awkward tension that had filled their silences and conversations was gone, replaced by something else that Stiles couldn’t name (he’d had many guesses but “sexual tension” currently topped his list).

            But no kiss could automatically make everything perfect, no matter how great of a kiss it was. Derek and Stiles both steered clear of the uncomfortable “what is this, where is it going, are you going to stay at the end of the month” conversation. Derek didn’t want to pressure Stiles and Stiles didn’t want to start another fight. They could figure out those questions later.

            The day after the bonfire was a Monday, the full moon was the upcoming Friday, and so Derek had lots of patrols and council business to attend to now that the weekend was over and the full moon was approaching. Derek made arrangements for Stiles to go into town and work with the Healer, Deaton, during the week so that Stiles had something to do while Derek was doing his alpha-nephew duties. Apparently Deaton was looking for help anyways, preferably from a human as he was one himself and humans were the only ones could handle things like mountain ash and wolfsbane in this town, so Stiles fit the bill. Again, Stiles and Derek didn’t talk about whether the arrangement would be a permanent one or not and Deaton, bless him, didn’t ask either.

            Deaton was really pleasant to work with. He had a very calm manner about him that relaxed Stiles whenever he was around. He treated not only the people of the Hale village, but their pets and sometimes even wild animals as well. It seemed like dogs were a favorite among the village and that really didn’t surprise Stiles at all.

            The week passed leisurely and without much action from feral outsiders, crazy bitch werewolves, or prying sisters and it was nice for Stiles to just relax.

            There was, however, another kind of action.

            Growing a pair and kissing Derek was by far the best choice Stiles has made while he’d been there. Because once they started kissing, they didn’t stop. Derek had a thing for hickeys, like a _serious_ thing. Stiles had to make sure Derek kept the love bites to areas that were easily covered by his clothes. He also _really_ liked rubbing his face anywhere on Stiles he could and sniffing him. When Stiles asked what the hell he was doing the first time it happened Derek just replied, “’S’called scenting. It’s a wolf thing,” then moaned out, “ _god_ Stiles you smell so good.” And Stiles should probably find the whole scenting thing really weird, but it was actually _really_ hot.

            But now that Stiles had gotten a taste, he wanted _more._ The only issue with this was that any time Stiles would try to take things to the next level Derek would either stop and give him the whole “let’s take things slow” lecture or he’d make a serious effort to keep everything PG-13. He wouldn’t even let any shirts be taken off, and _really_. If there was anything Stiles wanted in life, it was to see Derek Hale shirtless. Derek also still slept in the loft bedroom and Stiles had on more than one occasion considered going upstairs in the middle of the night and just getting into bed with Derek because he was sick of sleeping alone. He was also sick of awkward, neglected boners and wanting to jump Derek’s bones almost any time they were within ten feet of each other.

            Stiles was only comforted by the fact that he could see Derek’s resolve crumble a little more every day, and it did make him feel better knowing that Derek wanted him just as bad as he wanted Derek, if not more. Stiles had a five-step plan on getting into Derek’s pants, and he was going to make it happen.

            Unfortunately his five-step plan was interrupted by a little thing called the full moon. Laura had invited Stiles and Derek over for an early dinner that day before Laura and Derek left for the full moon patrols. The plan was that Stiles would stay with Shawn and the kids until Derek and Laura came back from their shifts. Though Derek didn’t say it directly out loud Stiles deciphered from Derek’s explanation of the patrols and shifts that Derek and Laura were in charge of the most dangerous one. It kind of terrified Stiles a little bit, but Derek assured him everything would be fine.

            Before they left for Laura’s, Derek helped Stiles pack a small overnight bag stating that he didn’t know how long he’d be over there tonight. Rummaging through one of the drawers in the downstairs bedroom Derek pulled out a long, slender box. Stiles took it tentatively and opened it, revealing a long dagger. Derek gave him a solemn look.

            “I hope it doesn’t have to come to this tonight,” he said. “But just in case, Shawn will teach you how to use it after Laura and I leave.”

            Stiles nodded, and Derek pulled him in close, large hands coming around either side of his head, cupping his face.

            “I won’t take any chances,” he whispered. “Not with you.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

            When Derek knocked on Laura’s door (she wasn’t kidding when she said there was a big “H” on it the other day) Stiles immediately heard happy squeals from inside and the sound of running. A little girl with dark hair and bright blue eyes flung the door open and squealed again, a sandy-blond boy with the signature Hale eyes followed right behind her.

            “Uncle Derek, Uncle Derek,” they both chanted excitedly.

            Stiles had been so focused on the full moon that the fact that he would have to handle seeing Derek interact with _children_ completely slipped his mind. Matthew hugged one of his legs and Naomi lunged herself up at Derek, who caught her, and wrapped her arms around his neck. Derek grinned at both the kids and Stiles' heart swelled at the sight. He literally could not handle this. At this point Stiles felt like it was more likely that Derek would kill him with all this kid-related cuteness than the Ferals would.

            He was caught off guard when Naomi looked over and asked, “Who is he?”

            “That,” Laura said, coming around the corner, “is Stiles.”

            “What’s a Stiles?” Matthew asked, still wrapped around Derek’s leg.

            “Stiles is my mate,” Derek said, the pride unmistakable in his voice.

            “I like him!” Matthew exclaimed.

            “If Matty likes him then I like him too!” Naomi chimed in.

            A man with light brown hair and Naomi’s eyes rounded the corner and threw Stiles a grin.

            “From what I can hear, everybody here likes Stiles,” he extended his hand. “I’m Shawn, nice to finally meet you.”

            “Nice to finally meet you, too,” he grinned back and shook Shawn’s hand.

            “Alrighty then,” Laura said clapping her hands together. “Now that everyone’s all introduced I saw we eat some dinner, yeah?”

            The food was delicious and the conversation was easy, but it reminded Stiles of time spent with his father, and he felt a pang, wondering how he was holding up without him. He remembered in the tribute legend it was said that tributes are never seen again after they’re taken. He wondered if Shawn had even tried to visit his family, or if he was too love drugged to even care. Surely later on, when things settled down, he got in contact with them?

            Too soon, it seemed, dinner was over and Derek and Laura were prepping for their patrol. When everything was cleaned up and both the Hales were ready to go, Derek pulled Stiles into a hallway, crowding him up against the wall, for a moment alone.

            “Last full moon the Ferals almost breached the settlement’s borders. Just barely, but enough to be worrisome,” Derek spoke quickly. “Shawn is going to put the kids to bed and then he’s going to teach you how to use the dagger I gave you earlier. Just…only leave this house in the case of an absolute emergency, please.”

            “Derek, be safe,” Stiles begged, voice barely above a whisper. “Please, be safe.”

            Derek fisted his hand into Stiles’ shirt and pulled him into a fierce kiss. When they broke apart Derek rested his forehead on Stiles’ and murmured, “I _will_ be coming back tonight, for you.”

            And with that he let go of Stiles and stormed down the hallway. Stiles followed after him only to see him cross the living room and exit through the open front door. Laura chuckled and shook her head.

            “Derek’s a big fan of making an exit,” she said. “He’s also a big fan of making an entrance too. He’s into theatrics, really. I should probably go and make sure he’s not making an emotionally inspiration speech to the rest of the wolves about honor and glory right now or something.”

            “Mommy why do you have to go?” Naomi mourned, clutching her father’s leg.

            “Darling you know why. Mommy’s being brave and protecting the village so everyone can be safe and happy.” She leaned down and gave her daughter a kiss on the cheek, then gave one to her son who was held in her husband’s arm. She saved Shawn for last giving him a meaningful look before leaning in and giving him a short, but passionate kiss, and then turned and headed for the doorway.

            “Hey, babe?” Shawn called after her. Laura turned back, a question in her eyes. Shawn just smirked. “Kick some werewolf ass tonight.”

            Laura just gave him a shit-eating grin and was out the door.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

            The kids were put to bed, not without some struggle, and Shawn began teaching Stiles basic maneuvers with the dagger. Shawn knew what he was doing, his grip was firm and sure and his movements were fluid. To Stiles’ surprise, he picked up the basic techniques pretty fast and Shawn moved on to teach him trickier, but more effective moves. After almost two hours, both collapsed into the couch, satisfied with how things went.

            “Your blade is laced with wolfsbane,” Shawn said, examining it. “Mine is too. It’s really the only way for a knife or dagger to even be effective against a wolf, especially a feral one. They’re stronger and faster than normal werewolves, but they’ve totally given into their animal side so they’re not as clever as a non-feral werewolf would be. Just be careful with the dagger around Derek. I know mine makes Laura uncomfortable. It’s probably why he kept it in this box.”

            “This is kind of random,” Stiles began, “but how come your kids aren’t shifting right now, since it’s the full moon? Are they werewolves, too? I don’t know how the whole human-werewolf thing works genetically.”

            Shawn chuckled a little putting Stiles’ knife back into the box and handing the box to him. “Lycanthropy is a dominant gene. It’s hard to explain unless I give you a genetics lesson, but in most cases a werewolf will always have werewolf children. Since I’m human and one of Laura’s parents was human, there’s a possibility for us to have a human child as well. It’s _technically_ about a fifty-fifty chance if we’re speaking genetically, but the werewolf gene has a way of making itself present and since it’s supernatural I don’t really think the natural human laws of genetics really applies to it.

            “Naomi and Matthew are both wolves. Kids don’t begin to actually shift on the full moon until they’re teenagers, the pituitary glad, which is responsible for starting puberty also kickstarts the change. And, _seriously_ , can you imagine? Teenagers are already hormonal enough as it is, but when you add in the whole werewolf factor…” he shuddered. “I am not excited for the teenage years. Sometimes when the kids get angry or very upset the traits show through, for example they’ll pop out the claws, elongate their canines, or flash the beta eyes, and that’s how you know your kid’s a werewolf. As if raising regular kids isn’t hard enough.”

            Stiles laughed at that. Naomi and Matthew already seemed like enough of a handful without the whole claws and fangs factor.

            “I have another question for you,” Stiles said slowly. “But it might be kind of personal.”

            “If you’re going to ask me about werewolf sex, I _really_ think you should talk to Derek about-“

            “No, no, no,” Stiles said quickly. “Not, uh, werewolf sex, at all. No, I was wondering, after you became tribute, did you ever get to see your family again? Because the legends surrounding the tribute is that they’re never seen again.”        

            Shawn nodded, expression immediately sobering.

             “I tried to go back, once, to visit my family. Laura went with me. I wanted them to meet her. She warned me it could be a bad idea but I didn’t listen,” He began quietly. “Gerard met us before we could even get to the Hale-Argent border. He told me as the mate of a werewolf I was no longer welcome in his village. He threatened to have both Laura and I killed on the spot if we took a step within his borders or tried to contact my family. It’s been ten years; I still miss them a little every day. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t trade my life here, my kids, or the love I have with Laura, for anything. But I just at least wish that my family knew I was okay.”

            Shawn paused for a minute. “Don’t fret so much, Stiles,” he said, standing and patting Stiles on the shoulder. “Let things run their course. If you’re tired, take a nap on the couch if you want, take your mind off things. Derek will wake you when he gets back.”

            Stiles wasn’t really sure if he was even tired, but he reclined back on the couch anyways.

            Seconds, minutes, hours, Stiles wasn’t really sure which, later, someone was shaking him awake, calling his name. It’s wasn’t Derek.

            “Stiles,” Shawn begged, “Stiles wake up, you’ve gotta wake up.”

            “Whaasssapin’,” Stiles mumbled groggily.

            “It’s Naomi,” Shawn answered, voice shaking. “I went to go check on both of the kids and she was gone.”

            Stiles shot up, regaining all consciousness immediately.

            “Are you sure she’s gone, maybe she’s hiding somewhere around the house or something-”

            “I’ve checked _everywhere,_ ” Shawn said frantically. “And her window was open. I don’t know what the _hell_ she was thinking but she’s out there, somewhere and-”

            A long, low howl cut Shawn off, and his face paled.

            “Stiles, stay here, I’m going out to find her,” Shawn gasped rushing past Stiles, who grabbed him.

            “I’ll go.”

            “Stile’s, no-”

            “The Ferals are out there and your four-year-old son is in here, alone. I’ll find her, I’m fast and I’m quick on my feet,” Stiles spoke quickly, “I can do this.”

            Against Shawn’s protests, Stiles flipped the lid of the wooden box, pulled out the dagger and headed for the door. He was being reckless, he knew it, but he couldn’t let Laura and Shawn lose their daughter.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

            Stiles ran down the main dirt road frantically calling out Naomi’s name. Howls echoed every now and then in the distance and he was growing more and more nervous by the minute. Someone grabbed his arm and Stiles yelped in surprise. He swiveled around, dagger in hand only to find a panic stricken Isaac behind him.

            “Stiles, what the _hell_ are you doing out here,” he exclaimed. “You need to go home, _now._ ”

            “Isaac, just pause for a second I need your help. If I needed you to, could you find me either one or both of the Hales? Do you know either of their scents well enough to find them?”

            “Of course,” Isaac answered, as if it were obvious. “I could always howl for them too, but I run patrols with both of them quite a lot, I know their scents well. What I _don’t_ know is why the hell you’re outside when the feral pack has breached our borders!”

            Shit. If the Ferals were close then Stiles really needed to hurry.

            “Listen, Isaac, please just listen to me,” the desperation in Stile’s voice seemed to catch Isaac’s attention. “I need you to find one or both of the Hales. Preferably Laura, but Derek will do. Tell them Laura’s seven-year-old daughter is missing, that Shawn is home with their son and I’m out looking for the girl. I have no idea where to even start looking and I need one of them to track her scent so we can find her.”

            The panic was immediately back on Isaac’s face. “Yeah, I can definitely do that. Boyd said he heard someone or something whimpering in the clearing earlier, maybe it was the kid. I’ll find the Hales right away. Be careful, Stiles.”

            “Thank you!” Stiles called after Isaac as Isaac disappeared into the trees. Stiles turned on his heels and broke into a run, heading for the clearing.

            He was out of breath when he finally got there, but he definitely heard whimpering. The tables were still set up from the night before, but the clearing was much darker without the huge bonfire. The only light came from the willow-the-wisps that bordered the clearing and the full moon.

            “Naomi, are you here? It’s Stiles. I’m here to help you.”

            “Stiles?” a voice sobbed from under one of the tables. Relief flooded through Stiles and he immediately ran over to the area from where the noise came. He spotted a pair of beta-blue eyes peeking at him from under a table as he approached and crouched down on the ground so he could be on her level.

            “Naomi, what are you doing out here? You had me and your dad worried sick.”

            Another sob ripped through the poor girl as she answered, “I was trying to be brave like mommy.” Okay, Stiles’ heart broke a little at that. “Mommy protects the pack so I wanted to, too. So I left out my window when papa thought I was asleep. But then I couldn’t find mommy so I got scared, so scared, so I’m hiding.”

            “Naomi, you will have plenty of time to be brave when you’re older okay? You’re just a kid. I know you want to protect the pack but right now it’s the _pack’s_ job to protect _you_ , okay?”

            Naomi sniffled and nodded her head with an “Okay.”

            “Thank god you’re okay,” Stiles breathed. “Now c’mon out so I can get you home.”

It seemed the universe just couldn’t let things couldn’t be _that_ easy. As Naomi made her way to crawl out from under the table, Stiles heard a growl behind him. Naomi’s eyes went wide and Stiles held a finger up to his mouth in a shushing motion whispering, “ _Stay here._ ” Naomi nodded and fell back into the shadows under the table.

            Stiles gripped his knife and rose to meet the beast, praying it was one of the villages’ werewolves but knowing that it wasn’t. He gasped as he turned and caught sight of a behemoth of a fully shifted wolf in the clearing’s entrance, less than twenty feet away from him. The creature snarled and snapped its jaw, showing of a set of wickedly long and sharp teeth while approaching Stiles in a predatory way. Everything that Shawn had told him earlier rushed through his mind. He probably wouldn’t be able to get the first strike in; he had to be fast enough to dodge a hit.

            As expected the wolf lunged first, but Stiles was ready. Its claws just barely got him, slicing through the fabric of his long-sleeved shirt and leaving shallow cuts on his left arm as Stiles plunged the dagger into its shoulder with his right. The animal immediately recoiled, howling and Stiles made the stupid mistake of taking a moment to be proud of himself.

            It was in that moment that the wolf made another swipe, and found its mark. Claws raked diagonally across his torso from his right shoulder down. The wolf was weakened so it wasn’t anything too deep, but the force of it knocked Stiles to the ground and his head smacked into the dirt. In an instant the wolf was hovering over him, paws on either side of his body. But Stiles was ready. He knew the wolfsbane was slowly making its way through the beast’s blood stream, now he just needed to buy himself time. There was an angry snarl somewhere near the clearing and Stiles blanched at the prospect of having to fight off another.

            Ignoring the sound for a moment, he sliced at each of its front legs and was rewarded with the wolf throwing it’s head back and howling in pain, leaving its neck wide open. With one quick movement, Stiles slashed at the wolf’s neck, making the beast howl even louder. In one last attempt at attacking Stiles it sunk one of its claws into Stiles’ shoulder before collapsing on top of him, which _great_ , because it was way too heavy for him to move and Stiles was probably going to pass out then bleed out before anyone actually found him. He wondered idly where the creature that’d snarled earlier had gone off to before he heard a very close, very pained howl.

            Oh god, he’d probably killed one of the wolves’ friends or mates or something and the snarling, angsty-howling one was coming for him. Stiles was already just barely fighting falling into unconsciousness. He didn’t have it in him to fight off another. He hoped Naomi had the sense to run off while the wolf had been distracted by the fighting and was safe. If Laura’s daughter, Derek’s niece, made it out of this alive, then at least he accomplished something.

            There was another growl, this one very close, and the wolf was tossed off of him. When Derek came into his field of vision Stiles was equally relieved and shocked, partly because he’d never seen Derek fully wolfed out, but mostly because up until about five seconds ago he thought he was going to have his entrails removed. He sat up slowly and breathed a sigh of relief.

            Derek fell to his knees next to Stiles and _whined_. Wrapping Stiles in his arms and burying his face in his neck, he clutched Stiles to his chest holding him as if Stiles would disappear if he let go. Someone cleared his or her throat and when Derek pulled away, he was no longer shifted. Laura stood there, arms protectively wound around her daughter. Her eyes glistened, all the thanks in the world held in her expression.

            “Laura, please get Deaton and tell him it’s urgent,” Derek said.

            She nodded, and with a fervently whispered “ _Thank you_ ” to Stiles she ushered Naomi out of the clearing.

            Stiles was slowly losing focus, whether it was blood loss, hitting his head, or just straight up exhaustion, he wasn’t sure. As Derek lifted him off the ground, and his focus was lost, Stiles gave in willingly to unconsciousness.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

            Stiles woke up slowly, and to two familiar voices. He was lain on Derek’s couch, a sheet spread under him (probably for all the blood), and he was shirtless. Looking down he gasped at the five lines of red that ran diagonally across his chest. They were not nearly as deep at Stiles had originally thought, and it was obvious that Deaton had cleaned all his cuts as well as put some sort of salve on them. Deaton was crouched next to him and Derek sat perched on the edge of the coffee table.

            Deaton gave him a warm smile. “You gave us quite the scare there, Stiles. It looks to me like your injuries aren’t as bad as I’d originally feared. Most of the blood was the wolf’s, not your own. The salve that’s on you has supernatural properties. It will speed up the healing and leave you with very little scarring. I’m leaving some here with you; make sure you keep using it until your wounds are fully healed. You will be in some pain these first few days, especially in your left shoulder where the punctures are the deepest. However, you’ll be completely fine once you’re healed. You’re quite the fighter, Stiles. Not many humans could face a feral werewolf and live to tell the tale. I’ll leave you to it, don’t come in to work until you feel absolutely healed, and come to the clinic if anything’s amiss.”

            Deaton snapped his bag shut, and with a quiet “Thanks” from Derek he was out the door. Derek didn’t speak for a while, he just sat there and stared at Stiles.

            “Say something,” Stiles whispered after he couldn’t take it any longer.

            “ _God,_ Stiles,” he began. “I was certain for some time that I was going to lose you tonight. And it was the single most terrifying thing I’ve ever felt. I couldn’t think, I could hardly breathe. When I walked into that clearing and saw the wolf on you I almost went mad. Had you not killed it yourself, I probably would’ve ripped it to pieces to get it off you. And then when I did pull the thing off you, you were covered in blood,” he shuddered. “Just… _god Stiles_ please don’t ever almost get yourself killed again.”

            “I know you said to stay in the house tonight, I’m sorry,” Stiles said, casting his eyes down.

            Derek moved off the coffee table and onto his knees next to the couch.

            “You saved my niece’s life, therein saving my sister’s sanity and happiness. Never apologize for what you did tonight. Stiles, you were so brave. You’re a hero.”

            “I’m not a hero, Derek,” Stiles mumbled.

            “You risked your life for a child that you barely know,” Derek said firmly. “You are, _you are._ ” Derek leaned in and kissed Stiles as passionately as he could while still remaining gentle, which was easier said than done. Stiles shifted up towards Derek to deepen the kiss and regretted his decision immediately when pain shot through him. He groaned and Derek quickly broke the kiss and searched Stiles eyes for a moment before sitting back on his heels.

            He looked down at his hands and then up at Stiles.

            “Do you trust me?” he asked

            “Yes,” Stiles answered without hesitation. Derek smiled at that but it fell quickly into a look of apprehension. Derek moved to sit on the edge of the couch and gingerly placed his hands on Stiles’ abdomen, looking him straight in the eye.

            Suddenly Stiles felt lighter and his stomach felt tingly, and the longer Derek touched him the better he felt. Looking down at Derek’s arms he gasped. What looked like a black liquid was very visibly flowing through the veins up his arms.

            “Wh-what are you doing?” Stiles stuttered.

            “I’m taking your pain,” Derek grunted, never breaking eye contact.

            “You don’t have to take my pain away Derek.”

            “I know. I want to,” Derek replied simply.

            “I can’t let you take all my pain for me,” Stiles said shaking his head.

            “Then I won’t ‘take’.  We’ll share it.” With that the tingly feeling stopped and Derek placed a kiss on his lips and smiled.

            Stiles didn’t feel like he could fight off another wolf, but he definitely felt much better. He sat up, took in his the appearance of the rest of his body and grimaced; he was still pretty much covered in blood and dirt.

            “Eurgh,” he wrinkled his nose. “I really need to wash all this blood and dirt off. It’s drying now and it’s pretty freaking gross.”

            “Oh…um, okay,” Derek said smile faltering for a second. “I’ll just go upstairs and-”

            “You could help,” Stiles suggested, suddenly finding a tear in his jeans fascinating and toying at it with his fingers.

            Derek’s weight left the couch and the next thing Stiles knew Derek was lifting him into the air for the second time that night. _Oh my god this is happening, holy shit._ Derek carried him through the downstairs master bedroom and into its spacious bathroom where he placed Stiles on gently on his feet and opened the glass shower’s door to turn on the water. Shucking his shirt off Derek cross the bathroom and closed and locked the door (like anyone else even lived here to barge in).

            “Wait, stay right there,” Stiles said quickly, and Derek froze, his back to Stiles.

            Stiles approached him slowly, appreciating the defined muscles on his back and shoulders (and his ass), as well as a black tattoo that curled out in three spirals on his back. He reached out and traced it slowly, which made Derek instantly relax.

            “I didn’t know you had a tattoo,” he murmured.

            “It’s a triskelion,” Derek replied. “It stands for Alpha, Beta, Omega.”

            Derek turned around slowly, looking at Stiles through a heated gaze. Stiles decided it should be deemed a crime that he hadn’t seen Derek shirtless before now because it was really a _very_ incredible thing to see. He ran his hands over the planes of Derek’s chest and down his abdomen, watching in fascination as the muscles contracted.

            “Are you sure about this?” Derek asked huskily.

            “Yes, completely, absolutely, one hundred percent sure,” Stiles affirmed and closed the space between them with a kiss. Derek parted his lips and let Stiles take control while he moved them back towards the running shower. Steam was starting to fill the room so Derek went to work on getting the rest of their clothes off. He discarded his pants and boxers quickly, stepping out of them, going for Stiles’ next.

            Stiles pulled his head back then and groaned when he got a good look at a very naked Derek. He leaned forward and rested his head on Derek’s shoulder as Derek unbuttoned Stiles’ jeans and pushed them down, Stiles stepping out of them.

            “You probably shouldn’t have taken your clothes off,” Stiles said breathily. “Because now I don’t know if I’ll ever let you put them back on.” Derek chuckled and pecked Stiles forehead before taking Stiles’ hand and leading him to the shower, and if Stiles made a point to get a nice, close up look of Derek’s butt on the way to the shower then sue him, he was totally allowed to look.

            Derek pulled Stiles under the spray of the shower and closed the glass door, grabbing a bar of soap from a built in shelf on the shower wall that held a number of things on it. Stiles looked at the bar of soap like it offended him, and Derek quirked an eyebrow.

            “You said you needed to get clean. I’m getting you clean.”

            “Tease,” Stiles muttered under his breath.

            Derek just smirked and stepped forward pushing Stiles back under the hot water. He had to admit the heat of the water felt _really_ good. Hot water could be hard to come by sometimes in his old village so Stiles would take all the hot showers he could get. Derek rubbed the bar of soap gently over Stiles’ chest and stomach and down Stiles arms, building up a good residue before putting the bar to the side and finishing the job with his hands. Stiles shamelessly let a moan escape his lips as Derek worked his hands over Stiles’ chest and abdomen. From there he moved to his arms, scrubbing away the dirt and blood from each. Stiles was starting to get hard, his cock taking serious interest in Derek’s movement, especially when he bent down to wash each of Stiles’ legs.

            Stiles’ interest didn’t slip Derek’s notice and he grinned up wickedly at Stiles before standing up and once again pushing Stiles under the water to rinse the excess soap off. When it was gone he grabbed the soap once more and got to work on Stiles’ back, this time starting at the backs of Stiles’ legs. From there Derek stood and proceeded to wash his shoulders and back before setting the bar down once again. He rested his hands on Stiles’ shoulders for a moment before skimming them down his back until his thumbs rested in the dimples on Stiles’ back. His hands then trailed down to Stiles’ ass, bringing some of the excess soap with them. He began to massage the cheeks and Stiles moaned. A butt massage should not feel _that_ good. Or maybe it should, what the hell did he know. After a minute Derek stopped and took a step forward so that he and Stiles were chest to back.

            It took everything in Stiles not to squeak when he felt Derek’s erection against the cleft of his ass. It made him feel better to know Derek was just as turned on as he was. Derek stepped away only long enough for Stiles’ back to be rinsed off before he was up against Stiles’ back again kissing and suckling leisurely where Stiles’ shoulder met his neck. Stiles couldn’t take it anymore.

            “Derek, please,” Stiles begged. Derek paused for a second, breathing Stiles in before he spun Stiles around and pushed him up against the wall, still being mindful of Stiles' injuries. Their mouths met, and this time it was Derek that dominated the kiss. Stiles wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to last at this point, he could barely keep in his right mind enough to kiss Derek back. Everything was wet and warm and Derek was rutting up against him leaving no space, meaning Stiles’ cock was rubbing up against Derek’s abs and cock and vice versa, and his tongue was working magic in Stiles’ mouth. It was all too much but not enough, the room was steaming, Derek was touching him frantically everywhere as if he couldn’t get enough of Stiles, and Stiles was on _fire_.

            “I’m not going to last much longer,” Stiles panted against Derek’s mouth, voice wrecked. Derek moved to Stiles’ neck, still rutting but nodded and took a small step back. Stiles made a noise of protest but it died on his tongue when Derek wrapped a large hand around both of their aching cocks and stroked. Stiles threw his head back and _keened_ because, yeah, he’d jacked off plenty of times before but nothing compared to _this._ Derek started off slow, the glide of his hand eased by their soaked state, but it wasn’t enough. Stiles grew impatient after a little and started fucking up into Derek’s hand, just trying to get _more_ , more of the sensation, more of Derek, more of anything. Derek got the hint and started to jack them faster, taking massive pleasure in the broken, desperate noises he was coaxing out of Stiles’ mouth. Derek wasn’t faring any better though, he was grunting and panting into Stiles’ mouth, occasionally going in for a sloppy kiss.

            Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek, coming up and around his back to grab both of his slippery shoulders, still thrusting into the movement of Derek’s hand. Derek wormed his free arm between Stiles’ head and the wall, sliding his hand into Stile’s wet hair and gripping as he began to fuck into his hand as well meeting Stiles thrust for thrust and stroking them faster and faster.

            “Derek, I’m gonna-” Stiles gasped.

            “Me too,” Derek bit out, moaning into Stiles’ neck.

            It only took a few more strokes before Stiles came with a shout of Derek’s name who silenced Stiles with a kiss while working him through his orgasm. He came not long after gasping into Stiles’ mouth. He rested their foreheads together as they came down from their highs, chests heaving and legs shaking.

            “Hands down the best orgasm of my life,” Stiles said breaking the silence.

            Derek laughed but nodded. “Agreed,” he said. He looked down at the come splattered all over both of their stomachs and laughed once more. “Guess we’re going to have to clean off again.”

            Stiles grinned, “Try not to turn me on this time, I’m sleepy.”

            “No promises,” Derek said with a wink.

            They managed to get cleaned up without a round two ensuing, which Stiles was actually grateful for because after everything that happened that day, he really was exhausted. Derek dried them both off with fluffy white towels before following Stiles to the big bed in the bedroom attached. They didn’t even bother with pajamas because really, why would they. They fell into bed (as in Stiles literally fell, he was that tired) with Derek’s chest against Stiles’ back and Derek’s face buried in Stiles’ neck.

            Stiles had never slept so well in his life. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took a little over 20,000 words but they finally did some dirty deeds.There is definitely more to come. Sorry if the smut was terrible, I'm only human.


	5. Chapter 5

            Stiles was jerked out of a _very_ content sleep by loud knocking and someone angrily shouting on the opposite side of Derek’s bedroom door.

 

            “Derek, I swear to god, I used my spare key out of necessity because this is an emergency and I respect your boundaries and all but _open your damn bedroom door or I will barge in and-”_

            Stiles felt Derek stir beside him with a groan as Laura threw the door open, continuing her yelling. She stopped mid-sentence when she saw Derek and Stiles shirtless and still wrapped around each other. She paused for a moment before a wicked smile spread across her face. She laughed gleefully, looking positively thrilled. Derek groaned again and buried his face in Stiles’ shoulderblade to hide from his sister. Stiles just gaped wide-eyed at Laura, cheeks heating.

 

            “Thank _god_!” She breathed. “I honestly could’ve bottled the sexual tension hanging in the air around you two and sold it on the black market.”

 

            “Really, Laura,” Derek grumbled.

           

            “Yes, _really._ Now I hate to break up the lovefest but Peter sent out for an emergency council meeting this morning. And if you don’t hurry up, you’re going to be late.”

 

            “About _what_?” Derek demanded, gingerly unwrapping himself from Stiles and sitting up. “My mate is injured, I can’t just leave him here Laura. You know that. Every instinct I have is urging me to stay here with him all day to protect him while he heals.”

 

            “Derek. The rogues killed three humans from one of the local villages last night,” Laura said quietly, her mood doing a complete 180.

 

            Derek blanched, stiffening. “Three… _how._ Are you sure?”

 

            “Positive,” Laura nodded solemnly. “Look, you’ll find out more if you _come to the meeting_. I’ll leave so you can get up and…get dressed. But I’ll expect you at the meeting. Thirty minutes. Don’t be late.” She winked at Stiles and raised an eyebrow at Derek before turning on her heels and exiting the room, shutting the door behind her.

 

            “Derek, go. I’ll be fine,” Stiles reassured, sitting up slowly, wincing at the pain in his shoulder and torso.

 

            “How are you feeling this morning?” Derek asked, worry saturating his voice, all his attention immediately focusing on Stiles.

 

            “Derek, I’m _fine_. Deaton said so himself,” Stiles replied with a yawn. “Just go to the meeting and I’ll sleep until you get back okay? Your bed is so comfortable I really could lay in it all day.”

 

            Derek sighed and shifted, pulling Stiles’ back flush against his chest and resting his head on Stiles’ shoulder. “I wish _we_ could lay together in bed all day,” he whispered.

 

            Stiles thought briefly that if Derek were to spend the day in bed with him they’d be doing a hell of a lot more than ‘laying.’ He realized after he’d heard Derek take in a sharp breath that he’d said it out loud. Derek kissed his shoulder and groaned like it pained him as he got up from the bed.

 

            “ _Shit_ Stiles you cannot say things like that to me. Especially if I have to be somewhere where everyone around me can smell it the second I let my mind wander to what those words entail,” Derek moaned moving across the room to the drawers that still held some of his clothes. Stiles smiled to himself. It was nice to know that he had as much as an effect on Derek as Derek did on him. Which was really a radical thought seeing how _good_ Derek looked naked. He mourned the loss of his view as Derek rummaged through drawers, pulling clothes on.

 

            When he was finished he sat on the edge of the bed next to Stiles. “The meeting shouldn’t take long, but sleep for as long as you’d like. When you wake up I’ll put more of the salve Deaton left us on your wounds and we can spend the day together. Though I feel they’ll be tightening patrols, we always get the day after the full moon off to rest, they’ll cycle in those who didn’t patrol late last night for tonight. So we have all night too,” Derek spoke softly, gaze flickering between Stiles’ lips and his eyes. His voice lowered. “To be honest, I don’t really plan on sleeping in the loft bedroom tonight, or any other night for that matter.”

 

            Derek leaned in and gave Stiles a quick kiss before grabbing his leather jacket and making his way out of the bedroom. Stiles fell back into the pillows, grateful for a chance to sleep even longer and sighed as the downy pillows and comforter enveloped him and he drifted back to sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

            When Stiles woke, true to his word, Derek was back. He reapplied the salve to Stiles’ wound and made him lunch, but he was quiet, pensive. When, suddenly, he asked if Stiles wanted to do something fun, Stiles readily agreed hoping it would lift Derek’s mood. It seemed to work, Derek’s expression went from sullen to excited and he headed for the bedroom at a brisk walk.

 

            Stiles couldn’t deny the fact that his thoughts definitely strayed a little when he saw Derek heading for the bedroom, but any hopes of more action going down were crushed when Derek ran back out quickly, shoving things into a backpack, a smile on his face. Stiles couldn’t even let himself be disappointed because for the first time since he’d gotten back, Derek it seemed his mood was lifting.

 

 

            When Stiles asked Derek what they were doing Derek said, “You’ll see,” with a grin.

 

* * *

 

 

            They’d been walking on a path through the woods for some time now, Derek refusing to let Stiles in on where they were going. Stiles was itching to ask him what had been wrong earlier, but he had a pretty good feeling it had to do with the three deaths the night before. Derek led one of the patrols so he was probably feeling guilty. For that, _Stiles_ felt guilty. Had he not run off to save Naomi and gotten injured therefore distracting Derek, as well as Laura, for the night, maybe someone would’ve been there to protect one of those three people.

 

            “Why do you smell like guilt and distress?” Derek asked, eyebrows knitting together and the expression from earlier creeping back into his face.

 

            “You can _smell_ that? That’s a thing?”

 

            “The more I’m around you, the more I can pick up your body’s physical reactions to your emotions,” Derek said simply. “Don’t avoid the question.”

 

            “It’s fine Derek,” Stiles assured with an eyeroll. “Just, I feel like…had I not sent Isaac to get you and Laura, maybe you would’ve been there to protect at least one of the people who died last night.”

           

            Derek wheeled in front of Stiles, cutting him off. “If you hadn’t sent Isaac to get us you would have bled out in the clearing before anyone could find you. The people who died last night did so because they violated their village’s full moon restrictions. It’s still a shame that they died, of course, but it could have been prevented.

 

            “If you’re wondering why I was a little off this morning it’s because _I_ was feeling guilty. Partly because I wasn’t there to help, but mostly because a huge part of me is just thankful that it was someone else and not you, because it easily could have been you who died last night. So the very real possibility of your death last night finally hit me and it was terrifying.”

 

            “That’s kind of messed up, but also sweet I guess? So, thanks, but really you should probably get your priorities in order.”

 

            “Ha ha,” Derek said rolling his eyes. “Look I don’t want to talk about deaths or near-deaths any more today okay? So let’s just forget about it and keep walking, we’re almost there anyways.”

 

            Stiles wanted to once again ask Derek of their destination, but he knew he’d only get an eyebrow raise and some sort of vague answer. He grudgingly followed Derek down the path they’d been on and thought to himself _with all this walking wherever we’re going had better be damn good._

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

            “ _Wow_ ,” Stiles breathed as they exited the path, reaching was Stiles assumed was the destination.

 

            “They’re called cascades,” Derek said with an easy grin. “They’re waterfalls but the water kind of falls down a bunch of rock steps on the side of the drop off.” Stiles could see that. Instead of one gush of water tumbling over the edge of a cliff or something the cascade fell to one level of rock, then another, and another. The water formed a pool below that tapered off back into a river which continued on along the forest, twisting out of sight one hundred or so feet down. Trees surrounded the place, a large, flat expanse of rock lining the pool and some of the river until grass and trees replaced the rock. Everything was green and lush; even the rocks of the waterfall and along the shore were covered with moss here and there. The rush of the falls and the river was soothing. The place was beautiful.

 

            “Wow,” Stiles repeated. “Oh my gosh. This place is _so cool_.”

           

            “Yeah?” Derek asked almost sheepishly, though it was evident that he was pleased by Stiles’ reaction. “I was hoping you’d like it.” He set the backpack down pulling out a blanket and two towels. Stiles also caught a glimpse of what must have been a bag of food. Derek knew him well.

 

            “Want to go for a swim?” Derek asked, stripping out of his shirt.

           

            “Uh, yeah, sure,” Stiles stammered, “but I don’t have anything to swim in – _oh._ ” Derek ignored the first part of Stiles’ statement, shucking off his remaining clothing and walking, totally naked, to where the rock met the pool.

 

            “You don’t need anything to swim in,” Derek said, cockily lifting an eyebrow before diving in. Derek came back to the surface and swam to the water's edge, resting his arms on the flat rock.

 

            “What if other people also think it’s a nice day for a swim, and see us here...naked.”

 

            Derek grinned at that. “I made a mention to Laura this morning at the meeting that I was taking you here today, so of course everyone at the meeting overheard me. And like I said, there are no secrets in this town. Trust me, they’ll be staying far away from the cascades today.”

 

            “Are you sure?” Stiles asked cautiously. He still wasn’t sure how comfortable he was being naked in front of just Derek, much less being found by someone else being naked _with_ Derek.

 

            “Positive. Just trust me Stiles, and get in.”

 

            Stiles began fumbling out of his clothes, walking naked and nervous to the water’s edge. Derek watched him greedily, eyes raking all over his body at first. After a moment he stiffened and his expression shifted to where he looked almost…upset.

 

            Stiles froze in place, but Derek held his hands out and murmured “C’mere” so Stiles kept moving forward and slipped hesitantly into the water. No fancy diving for him, he was already self-conscious enough. Derek pulled him close, one arm rested on his back and the other came up to gently brush over the cuts across his torso.

 

            “Sorry if I weirded you out,” Derek said quietly. “It just really gets to me to see you injured and–”

 

            “ _Hey_ ,” Stiles cut in, cupping Derek’s face with both his hands. “I thought we agreed not to talk about it? Let’s just swim, have some fun.” With that, Stiles moved his hands from Derek’s face to his shoulders, pushing down and effectively dunking him under the water. Derek came up sputtering and Stiles couldn’t help but laugh. He immediately silenced himself when he saw Derek grin wickedly and lunge at him, taking Stiles into the water with him this time.

 

            Inevitably the dunking lead to play fighting, lots and lot of play fighting. Stiles didn’t think he’d ever seen Derek laugh or smile more in all the time he’d known him put together than he was right then. It wasn’t until Derek went to grab Stiles from behind that Stiles remembered _just_ how naked they were. Derek must have had the same revelation because his hold immediately went from rough and playful to something much softer.

 

            Stiles swallowed audibly as he felt lips press to the nape of his neck and heard Derek breathing him in.

 

            “ _God_ you really do have a scent thing, don’t you.”

 

            Derek laughed gently and said, “You smell like me. I like that.”

 

            He trailed kisses from Stiles’ shoulder to neck to cheek, standing flush behind him, finishing his path by lightly nosing at Stiles’ neck. Stiles shuddered as Derek inhaled then exhaled; the warm breath ghosting across his neck. Stiles turned in the circle of Derek’s arms and closed the space in between them.

 

            They kissed slowly and tenderly, the heated rush from the night before replaced by a soft, steady warmth. They kissed for a long time, but didn’t take it any further than that. Stiles was actually glad of it. Even if he’d mostly wanted to jump Derek’s bones all day, he wanted to be able to have this side of a physical relationship, too. The needy passion was hot, but the way Derek was holding him in his arms and looking at him between kisses stole Stiles’ breath.

 

            Eventually they left the pool (good thing too, Stiles’ fingertips were beginning to prune and that was so not attractive), Derek pulling out two towels and a blanket from the bag he’d brought, spreading the blanket over a flat rock. Once he was dry, Stiles pulled his clothes back on and Derek followed suit. Alone or not, Stiles wasn’t very comfortable being buck naked in the middle of the woods.

 

            They reclined on the blankets, Stiles eyes lighting up when Derek pulled a multitude of sandwiches out of the bag. Stiles made grabby hands and Derek chuckled, handing him two. The sun had been setting when they’d gotten out, and by the time they were finished eating it was almost completely dark.

 

            They talked comfortably, Stiles laying his head back on Derek’s backpack. He carded his fingers through Derek’s hair as Derek rested his head on Stiles’ stomach, and to Stiles’ surprise Derek started talking.

 

            He told Stiles about his childhood, what it was like growing up the son of the Alpha pair. His mother was the wolf in the relationship, his father was human and from Stiles’ village. He made no mention of his parents after that, but it was something. Stiles in turn told Derek of his childhood in his village, how his mother had taken ill and died and how much he missed her and wished she were still around. He spoke of Scott and how, even though he was disgustingly head over heels for Allison, he was still the greatest friend a guy could ask for.

 

            Stiles _didn’t_ mention that he finally understood where Scott was coming from now that he himself felt the same way about someone. For all his romantic gestures and talk of ‘mates’, Derek had never actually voiced any definite feelings and Stiles was not going to be the first one who went there.

 

            When it was completely dark and the stars were out, Derek pointed out the constellations visible in their sky this time of the year, telling the ancient Greek myths that went along with them. Derek’s voice was so pleasant and calming that after a while Stiles began to feel himself drift off.

 

            Derek shook him awake a while later, everything but the blanket packed up. Stiles shivered, the temperature had dropped a pretty good deal since the sun had set, and stood, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders. The moon was the only source of light, so Derek held out his hand to Stiles in a silent way of saying “I’ll show you the way.”

 

            As they entered the forest on the path on which they’d come, the world became pitch black to Stiles’ eyes. He gripped harder on to Derek’s hand with his and with his free one he gripped Derek’s arm, still attempting to keep the blanket draped in place over his shoulders. Derek began telling stories again, old legends about werewolves and lycanthropy that eased the journey home.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

            Derek had run over to Laura’s because she apparently had more information on the deaths from the night before so Stiles busied himself with showering and preparing for bed while Derek was gone. However being in the same shower where Derek had made him come harder than ever before in his life brought back his sex drive in full force. He wouldn’t be surprised if he did less than jump Derek and rip his clothes off when he walked back through the door.  There was something Stiles wanted to try, for Derek, but he didn’t want to lose his nerve.

 

            Stile was sitting on the bed fidgeting when he heard Derek return. Derek paused in the doorway and cocked his head to the side. “You seem restless.”

 

             Stiles just shook his head and stood, pulling Derek in for a heated kiss before turning him and pushing him back on the bed. Derek moved back to rest his head on the pillows and Stiles followed suit, chasing Derek’s lips the whole way there. Stiles settled on top of him, legs bracketing Derek’s hips, as the kisses became more feverish. Stiles laced one of his hands into Derek’s, pining it down on the bed, while his other moved to wind into dark hair. Derek was leaving all the control to Stiles and it surprised him, normally Derek called all the shots, dominated all the kissing. But he seemed completely content to lay back and let Stiles take the reins this time. Stiles sat up quickly to rid himself of his shirt, and Derek didn’t hesitate to do the same. The feel of their bare chests sparked Stiles back into action as he ducked down for another kiss.

 

            Stiles moved to Derek’s collarbone, sucking and nipping at the skin. He let out a quick gasp of surprise when Derek threw his head back, completely exposing his neck. He was a wolf, after all. Stiles knew what it meant for Derek to do this, submission and trust, but he didn’t quite know how to take it. Stiles trailed kisses up the exposed skin, stopping only to suck another mark right under Derek’s jaw before returning to his lips. Stiles ground down onto Derek and was rewarded with a groan and hands immediately moving to grip his hips to urge him to continue his rocking. Stiles reached down and pulled Derek’s hands from his hips pining them both to the bed this time and lacing his hands through them once more as he continued to grind.

 

            “You…are going…to ruin me,” Derek gasped in between frantic kisses and Stiles’ cock twitched at how absolutely debauched Derek’s voice sounded. He could easily feel how hard Derek was beneath him and so he decided now was as good of a time as any other.

 

            He moved off of the bed, much to Derek’s disdain, to rid himself of his jeans, keeping his boxers on. When Derek tried to sit up Stiles pushed at his chest gently as he walked to the foot of the bed and crawled up in between Derek’s legs, ending in a hover over Derek’s hips.

 

            “There’s something I want to try,” Stiles said, making an attempt at not letting his voice shake. “Just tell me if you want me to stop.”

 

            Derek’s eye’s widened immediately as Stiles went to unbutton and pull off the rest of Derek’s clothing leaving Derek naked and hard with Stiles’ mouth inches from his dick, warm breath making it twitch as Stiles panted over it.  Stiles locked eyes with Derek, who nodded frantically, before tentatively suckling the head into his mouth. Derek gasped, gripping at the sheets as Stiles slowly took him in deeper, his hand going to pump at the part of Derek’s cock that wasn’t in his mouth.

 

            All of what Stiles was doing was theory with no practice so it was definitely pretty sloppy but the pants and whines (yes, actual _whines_ ) that were coming from Derek were rather encouraging. Stiles pulled off to lick the vein on the underside before flicking his tongue over the head and taking Derek back into his mouth, testing his own limits by taking Derek deeper this time. He bobbed his head a little faster and with the hand not already jacking Derek’s length he fondled Derek’s balls, knowing he liked the feeling on himself. Derek hand came to rest in Stiles’ hair without pulling; he just seemed to using the grip as an anchor.

 

            Derek seemed to be losing it, Stiles looked up to see his eyes squeezed shut and his chest heaving. The sight mixed with all the sounds Derek had been making up to this point were keeping Stiles even harder than he’d been last night. Stiles wouldn’t be surprised if he came without even being touched. Derek was whispering “Your mouth Stiles, _your mouth_ ” in between moans and from the tension Stiles could feel in the wolf’s legs, he was close to coming. Stiles sped up his movements, keeping his eyes on Derek’s face while still working at taking his cock as deep as possible without setting off his gag reflex. When Derek opened his eyes, only to see Stiles staring right back at him with his lips stretched around Derek’s dick, it seemed to be the final straw.

 

            He pulled gently at Stiles’ hair in warning before he arched his back and came; Stiles’ name falling from his lips in pleasure. Stiles did his best to swallow all the come but some of it still escaped his mouth. Derek really didn’t seem to notice or care. He laid back and caught his breath for a moment before sitting up and grabbing Stiles by the biceps and flipping them so Stiles was pinned under Derek.

 

            Derek kissed Stiles fervently as he moved his hands to pull Stiles’ boxers down, mindful of Stiles’ still achingly hard dick. He gripped Stiles and started jacking him quickly, seeming to sense how close his mate already was. He broke the kiss to lean down and whisper, “ _God_ you’re amazing, Stiles. If I had known that when you said ‘try something’ that you really meant you wanted to suck my brains out through my dick, just… _god._ ”

 

            Derek’s words sent him over the edge come striping his stomach and Derek’s hand as he threw his head back and cried out, thrusting into Derek’s hand to ride out the final waves of his orgasm.

 

            He knows that just earlier he was thankful for the sweet side of this whole mate relationship, but as he and Derek lay tangled together in the afterglow, he couldn’t help but be pretty damn thankful for this side of things as well.

 

 

 

* * *

 

            Stiles once again found himself wandering through the town center, waiting for Derek to finish with his Alpha-nephew-bullshit-business, when he ran into Danny. He was sitting on a bench outside of a shop, reading a book under the shade of a tree, always the poster boy for “I’m more adorable than you.”

 

            “Stiles!” Danny said, flashing his trademark smile and closing his book, patting the bench beside him for Stiles to sit.  Stiles obliged. “How are you feeling? Isaac told me about the other night, said you got really roughed up but killed one of the Ferals. You’re giving us humans a good image.”

 

            “Yeah, I mean I’m okay but – whoa, hold on wait. ‘ _Us’_ humans. You’re human?!” Stiles sputtered.

 

            Danny looked at him like Stiles was absolutely mad. “Uh, yeah? Did you think I was a werewolf this whole time?”

 

            “Well you never specified,” Stiles mumbled. “And you hang out with all the wolves so…”

 

            “I hang out with the wolves because I just so happen to be friends with them,” Danny laughed. “Just as many humans live here as wolves, you know. But anyway, how’ve you been holding up?”

 

            “I’m _fine_ I mean there’s still some soreness every now and then but whatever Deaton gave me heals me at like 4 times the normal human rate so it’s all just scratches now. By tomorrow it’ll probably all be gone. I went on a hike with Derek to the cascades and swam and I have yet to keel over so I’m pretty sure I’ll live. But now that I’m thinking about it, I’m surprised he even let me out of the house.”

 

            Danny snorted. “Wolves are so over-protective,” he rolled his eyes. “So you went swimming, I’m assuming you went to the cascades?” Stiles nodded.

 

“They’re pretty amazing, huh? I honestly never even knew about them until a week or so ago. Isaac took me to see them.”

 

Stiles raised an eyebrow at that.

 

“Oh did he now?”

 

Danny immediately blushed. “I uh not like that we, uhm,” Danny stuttered

 

“Don’t worry dude I get it. Just two guys hanging out in the river playing in a waterfall.” Danny nodded looking relieved. “Yeah, exactly.”

 

            “Then again,” Stiles continued, “Derek and I were also just two guys hanging out in a river and playing in a waterfall. But there was kissing involved. Lots and lots of kissing. But that’s just us.” Stiles raised his eyebrows, and Danny wouldn’t meet his eyes. “So it _was_ more than just two guys hanging out! I knew it”

 

            Danny immediately looked worried. “Look just don’t say anything to anyone, please. Not even Derek. I have no idea what Isaac and I are, okay? If we even _are_ anything. Just…one minute he’s all over me and wants to be around me 24/7 and the next he’s acting like nothing’s going on between us and we’re just friends. Especially in front of other people, which is the _worst_. I just haven’t told anyone about it because it makes me feel so stupid, and it’s my fault I feel this way cause I _keep_ _letting it happen_.”

 

            “Danny. Seriously. Don’t worry,” Stiles reassured. “Your secret is safe with me.”

 

            Danny let out a breath, obviously very relieved. “Thanks, Stiles. You’re a good guy. I’m glad it was you out there as tribute. Derek really needed someone like you in his life. You’ve been here just over a week and Hale actually _smiles_ now. Like, all the time. I really never thought I’d see the day. I mean it could just be cause he’s finally getting some,” Danny jibed, poking at a mark on Stile’s neck, “but I don’t really think that’s the case. However if your skill in bed _is_ the sole reason for Hale’s smiles then well you know you to find if things don’t work out,” Danny joked with a wink. Stiles couldn’t help but laugh, and Danny followed suit.

 

            Their laughter was short lived when the duo looked up to see a very sour faced Isaac a few feet away and staring grumpily in their direction, definitely standing within earshot of a wolf. He huffed and turned on his heel, stalking off down the road, anger obvious in the set of his back and shoulders.

 

            “Look there he goes again! I swear it’s like he won’t– ”

 

            “Danny,” Stiles cut in. “I really think it’s time that you act upon the advice that _you_ gave _me_ just as few nights ago, you damn hypocrite.”

 

            Danny stared back at Stiles in confusion.

 

            “”Grow a pair and be a man’, sound familiar? Now, grow a pair, be a man, and go get _your_ man.”

 

            “You know what, you’re right,” Danny said, standing up. “I think it’s time I have a little chat with Isaac. I’m so done with bullshit and playing games. Stiles, you’re the best. If this works out, I’m making you a cake.” He winked and began walking purposefully in the direction that Isaac had disappeared in.

 

            “A cake?” Stiles called after him, laughter in his voice when he realized Danny was quoting Stiles' own response to Danny's advice .

 

            “A damn good one, too!” Danny called back.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

            Later that night while Derek and Stiles were enjoying dinner there was a quick knock on the door.

           

            Derek raised an eyebrow at Stiles who shrugged. It was Derek’s house, not his. How was he supposed to know what was at the door. Derek sighed and left the table to see what was going on. He returned moments later looking lost and very confused, like he was questioning everything he’d ever been told. In his hands was a white box.

 

            “Stiles, why did someone leave a cake at our door?”

 

 

 

            Stiles couldn’t help but grin into his dinner. Score one for Danny.

 

* * *

 

            The rest of the week passed without incident. After a few days, Deaton let Stiles return to work. The doc ran some tests on him at the beginning of the week to check for infections, possible rabies, et cetera and so forth. The results all came back fine so Stiles was deemed healed and good to go. Derek usually spent his days doing work with the council and sometimes ran patrols in the evening, but any time he had off he spent every second with Stiles. 

 

            Whenever they were alone together in the house, Derek couldn’t keep his hands off of Stiles, whether it was just casual touches and cuddling or touches meant to set Stiles’ bones on fire, Derek could just not stay away. Stiles was not complaining. At all. It seemed the more they did, the better it all got. Derek _really_ had a thing for Stiles’ mouth. But his thing for Stiles’ mouth was no comparison to his full-blown fixation on Stiles’ dick. Again, no complaints. Literally none.

 

            When Derek went down on Stiles for the first time the night of the cake incident (that cake was _good_ , by the way) Derek only had his lips on Stiles’ cock for less than a minute before Stiles was coming embarrassingly fast down Derek’s throat.

 

            They found new ways to take each other apart bit by bit, but they didn’t really move much further than where they’d been on the sexual front, sticking with hands and mouths. Stiles got better at the whole sex thing, slowly becoming more confident as the days passed. He wasn’t sure when they’d make the jump to actual sex or if their relationship was even ready for that kind of…intimacy. He may be a virgin but he definitely knew the logistics of how it all worked. He just didn’t know if or when they’d cross that line and if he’d be prepared for it.

 

            It seemed less and less that he thought of his old life, of his father and his friends. It made him feel guilty, but at the same time, Stiles wasn’t sure if he could ever return to the life he’d had before. He knew that everything he’d ever thought he knew was shrouded in lies. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to go back, ever. The only thing that shifted his resolve was the people he loved who were alive and well, but thought him to be dead.

 

            More than anything, even more than the lies, there was one factor that Stiles knew was responsible for not wanting to return home on the next full moon. And that was Derek. More and more, this place felt like home. _Derek_ felt like home. He had a few weeks, sure, but Stiles needed to start weighing out his choices.

 

 

 

* * *

 

           

            It was exactly a week after the full moon that Isaac showed up at their door. He looked so confused and scared that Stiles didn’t even have time to give him shit about Danny.

 

            “Deaton sent me,” Isaac said quickly. “He said there’s something that Stiles - you’ve both got to go to his office _right now_.”

 

            Stiles looked frantically from Isaac to Derek, unnerved by the urgency in Isaac’s voice.

           

            Derek nodded. “Thank you Isaac.  We’ll be on our way immediately.” Isaac nodded and left the porch, jogging down the path from Derek’s house to the main road.

 

            They made it to Deaton’s quickly, the office door opened by the doctor when they arrived, no knock needed.

 

            “Stiles, Derek,” there was a bit of an edge to Deaton’s normally tranquil voice. “There’s something…something came up last night. Derek, you are here because I need you to pass the information on to your uncle immediately. Stiles, you are here because from the very little information I gathered, this will affect you as well.”

 

            “What’s going on?” Derek asked quickly.

 

            “Someone was bitten last night by one of the Ferals. And is currently in the process of being Turned. Derek, please inform your uncle as soon as you leave here. I’m not quite sure the wolf was the Alpha, which means that any feral could carry the ability to Turn a human. Stiles, you’re here because the only information I could get out of the victim was one word. And that word was your name. He’s sleeping now, but he should be awake soon. I was hoping you being here would calm him. When he wakes. Follow me.”

           

            Derek and Stiles followed Deaton to the room where they worked on their human and werewolf patients. Laid out on the table was a figure he knew so well, it blindsided him. Stiles’ knees gave out from under him and he would’ve hit the floor had Derek not grabbed and steadied him. It seemed, like the victim, Stiles could only choke out one word as well. A name.

 

            “ _Scott._ ”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only a few more chapters after this! I'll let you guys know for sure the number of chapters there's gonna be in total as soon as I decide how I'm going to go about dividing up the last few chapters.

            Deaton urged Derek to speak to Peter and return as quickly as possible. If Scott woke up and immediately lost control, they were going to need some help. Derek didn’t look very happy to be leaving Stiles, but he nodded in consent and was on his way.

 

            “He’s going to wake soon,” Deaton said. “I’ll leave you two alone, but I’ll be in the next room over if anything goes amiss.” True to Deaton’s words, it seemed only a few minutes passed before Scott began to stir. Stiles was kind of worried, he’d never been around a newly changed werewolf before. Did they just wake up and BAM whip out the claws and fangs? He knew they had less self-control, but this was _Scott_.

 

            Scott woke slowly, and with a groan. Stiles braced himself, not really sure what to expect. Scott opened his eyes, looking around in a daze. When he caught sight of Stiles standing awkward and unsure near the door, Scott leapt off the table, rushing towards his friend. The next thing he knew, Stiles was being pulled into an all out bear hug, and the whole “werewolf” thing must have made Scott a _lot_ stronger than he used to be because…ouch.

 

            When he pulled back, Scott was grinning at Stiles in the most ecstatic way, that Stiles couldn’t help but grin back. “Oh my god, _Stiles_ , I seriously never thought I’d see you again. I mean I knew you were alive because I saw you but no one was with me so I thought ‘Hmm maybe I’m just going crazy and seeing what I want to see’ but I’m not, obviously. Because you’re here and –”

 

            “Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down there dude, talking that much without taking a breath is only in my job description okay?” Stiles said, still smiling. “You…you said you knew I was alive?”

 

            Scott nodded vigorously. “I thought for sure you were dead…we all did. I mean it’s what we’ve always been told…but then I saw you in the woods, not too long ago. You were across the river, at the cascades with some guy.”

 

            _Oh god_ , Stiles though, _I hope he wasn’t there to see us naked._

 

            “You were both laying on a blanket, talking,” Scott continued. _Phew_. “At first I couldn’t believe it, I thought that it was someone else. But then you were talking about our village and our childhood and your mom and…me. And I almost screamed out of happiness because you were alive. Not even like a manly scream either, a total girly ‘ _oh my god’_ scream.” Stiles snorted at that.

 

            “So you saw me, but why didn’t you say anything, try to communicate with me?” Stiles asked, maybe just a teeny bit hurt that Scott hadn’t tried to grab his attention.

 

            “I was with Allison’s dad, checking the borders. Technically the cascades are Hale territory but three people had died the night before from other villages and he wanted to be thorough. I told him the area was all clear because I didn’t want him to hurt you or something. But I saw you, and I knew I had to do something. My mind was reeling the rest of the border check. You were supposed to be dead, but you weren’t. Instead you were lying there talking freely.  At first I thought you were being held against your will or something but honestly you looked happier than I’ve seen you in a really long time, Stiles. I’m guessing the guy has something to do with it?”

 

            Stiles blushed, but nodded. “Derek,” was all he said.

 

            Scott gave him a look that Stiles knew meant “we’ll talk about this later” before continuing on with his story.

 

            “Then I thought, if you were alive, maybe that meant that all the other tributes were kept alive too? Maybe we’d been wrong about the wolves, you know? It was possible. I mean we’ve never actually seen them never actually met with them. So I went to Gerard. And it turned out to be a huge mistake.”

 

            _Oh god, not Gerard,_ Stiles thought desperately

 

            “When I told him I’d seen you, your father was in the room. I was so excited and so happy that you were alive I could barely contain myself at sharing the news. When I told my story your father’s face was torn between mad hope and heartbreak, like he couldn’t decide whether to believe me or not. But Gerard…Gerard looked furious. He immediately expelled my theory, yelled at me saying I shouldn’t go around spreading untrue stories. I knew the adults would be no help, not if Gerard didn’t believe me. They have such a blind faith in him. I don’t understand it. And there’s…there was something about Gerard in that moment that gave me this cold feeling. I don’t think I trust him, Stiles.”

 

            “Yeah, join the club,” Stiles muttered darkly.

 

            “I knew he’d be no help,” Scott repeated. “So I told our friends, hoping they’d believe me, and they did. We planned in secret. We’d find the Hale village, ask around and find you, see if you were okay. I don’t really know where we’d go from there but we decided to just wing it. We carried our plan out last night and we were so close to finding the village. But then I got separated and then the wolves came out of nowhere and I was bitten.”

 

            “Before you start hating everyone here,” Stiles cut in quickly, “just know that the wolves that bit you are very different than the ones that live a civilized life here. They’re called ‘Ferals’ and they’re primal and vicious. The ones here are actual people okay? I’m sure someone else can explain it better later and I’m probably just confusing you, so I’ll stop. Please continue with your story.”

 

            Scott did look pretty confused, but he continued on anyway. “I tried going home, back to the Argent village, but Gerard met me halfway. I was already changing, he and I both knew that I was turning into…that I’d be a w-werewolf soon. He tried to kill me, Stiles. And he almost did. Whatever he got me with, some sort of knife or something it burned and I just ran and ran and I’m guessing at some point I passed out cause I woke up here. The man…”

 

            “Deaton,” Stiles offered.

 

            “Yes, Deaton. He found me I don’t know how. All I know is I just kept repeating your name, kept trying to tell him to find you once he’d brought me here. And he told me he knew you, told me he could help. That’s all I remember before I blacked out again.”

 

            “You…you know you can never go back, right?” Stiles asked sadly.

           

            “Yeah, I know.” Scott answered glumly. “I kinda got that message when Gerard tried to murder me on the spot. But I have you now, Stiles. And I guess I’ll figure out everything else from there.”

 

            “You’ve always had me, dude,” Stiles grinned. “Besides, I don’t even think I’m allowed to go back to our old village either but I’ll…uh. I’ll explain that later when we have the ‘Derek’ talk, all right? Cause I’m pretty sure the Alpha’s coming to talk to you. He might want to know some things.”

 

            Scott looked worried but he just gulped and nodded quickly. Stiles felt terribly for Scott, and in a way this wasn’t fair. Of all the people for this to happen to, why Scott?

 

            “You’re taking this all very well though, the whole ‘I’m a werewolf now’ thing, you know?” Stiles said, genuinely impressed. He knew he’d probably be in the corner crying in the fetal position if the situation was reversed.

 

            Scott laughed. “Well I did most of my freaking out walking back to the village after getting bitten,” Scott admittedly sheepishly. “I was kind of a wreck to be honest. But I think...having you here, it calms me down. I just have to get used to…all of this, I guess.”

 

            “And you know I’ll be there for you every step of the way.”

           

            “You’re the best best friend a dude could ask for,” Scott grinned.

           

            “What can I say, man, it’s cause I love you,” Stiles grinned back. 

 

            There was a rap on the door that made both boys jump.

 

            “Aren’t you supposed to have super senses or something now that you’re a wolf? Like be able to hear the fact that someone’s on the other side of the door?”

 

            “Shut up,” Scott muttered, obviously spooked, but he shoved at Stiles playfully nonetheless. Stiles just snickered.

 

            The door to the room swung open and Stiles was greeted by none other than Peter Hale who grinned down at him.

 

            “Stiles, so good to see you. And this must be your friend, Scott. I’m Peter, I am the Alpha of the Hale Pack,” Peter said inclining his head politely towards Scott as he walked into the room followed by Deaton. Derek slunk in last, closing the door, and fell to the back of the room. Stiles wanted to go stand with him, but he also didn’t want to leave Scott.

 

            “This is Deaton,” Peter continued, “he’s the doctor, healer, veterinarian, whatever you wish to call him, just know he’s the best there is. The one brooding in the corner, that’s my nephew Derek, and I’m told you already know Stiles…?” Scott nodded. “Good, it’ll be good for you to have someone you’re close with nearby. Firstly, I want you to know that you are more than welcome to live here in our village, if you wish. You are not the first to get bitten by a Feral and, sadly, I fear you will not be the last. Humans turned by Ferals have no problem whatsoever learning to control themselves and fitting into the pack and the village. I have a feeling you’ll be just fine.”

 

            “We know you probably have a lot of questions, but Peter and myself with sit down with you later and explain everything, okay?” Deaton said gently. Stiles could visibly see Scott relaxing more and more, especially after Deaton talked. But it was just kind of a Deaton thing; he had a way of calming everyone around him.

 

            “The question remains as to where you will stay in the meantime while you learn to control your wolf and blend into the pack. After some time you can start working or patrolling and get a place of your own.”

 

            “He can stay with Stiles and me,” Derek offered tightly, really not sounding too thrilled about making the offer. Scott whipped his head in Stiles’ direction, raising his eyebrows, his face silently saying, “you _live_ with him?”

 

            Stiles groaned internally and shot Scott a pleading look, begging him with his eyes to save it for later.

 

            “No,” Peter said, shaking his head. “We can’t have a new wolf living in such close quarters with a human, even if the human _is_ his best friend.”

 

            “Scott is welcome to stay with me,” Deaton offered. “I may be human myself, but we both know I can hold my own against a werewolf, even a newly turned one.”

 

            “Thank you Deaton, that is probably best.” Peter turned to Scott, “I’ll get in touch with my niece, Laura. I’ll have her work with you on controlling the shift and staying in control once you’re shifted. She’s a phenomenal teacher. However, there’s quite a lot we need to explain and some things we need to talk to you about, and I don’t want to bore dear Stiles and Derek with information they already know. So if the two of you will kindly leave us with Scott, I’m sure he’ll catch up with you later.”

 

            Stiles gripped Scott’s shoulder reassuringly before exiting the room, Derek filing out behind him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

            Derek was quiet on the walk home. Stiles couldn’t tell if he was thinking or just brooding.

 

            “It’s been a while since anyone was bitten,” Derek said quietly, finally speaking when they reached the house.  “The bite may be a gift, but not if the recipient is unwilling.”

 

            “Scott seems okay with it…for now,” Stiles said. “But I don’t know if he realizes how long term this is. That he can’t go home now. I mean he’s happy to have me back, but that will wear off eventually, especially now that he knows I’m not dead.”

 

            Derek just grunted at that.

           

            “It was nice of you…what you did earlier. Offering to let Scott stay with us.”

           

            Derek waved it off and, again, grunted.

 

            “And it’ll be nice if I – if I stay. To have him here too, it would make me feel like I’m not totally turning my back on my old life and –“

 

            “ _Don’t,_ ” Derek cut in sharply.

 

            Stiles gaped for a moment before shooting back, “Don’t _what?_ ”

 

            “Don’t talk about ‘ _staying’_ when we both know full well that that’s not what you’ve been planning on doing. And if _him_ showing up is what made you change your mind then I don’t want that either. I don’t want you to stay here, stay with _me_ just because it’s more convenient now.”

 

            “’ _Him’_ , really Derek?” Stiles asked incredulously. “He has a name, and he’s my best friend, I’d appreciate if you wouldn’t talk about him like he’s the enemy. Besides you literally just offered to _let him stay in your house_ no less than thirty minutes ago.”

 

            “I was doing that _for you_ , Stiles!” Derek shouted. “Just the other day you were raving about what a great guy he is and how much you miss him, and it didn’t bother me then because he was a whole village away. But now he’s here, and you _smell_ like him already because it’s an old scent getting reinforced and my wolf can’t take it!”

 

            “It’s always ‘ _your wolf’_ , Derek. It’s always your wolf that’s upset, your wolf that wants me. What about you, huh? I know you’re one and the same but ‘your wolf’ seems to be the reasoning behind a lot of your actions,” Stiles tried to keep his voice steady, but the more he talked the harder it got. “I can’t ever tell if it’s what _you_ want or if it’s what your instincts want, if you’re in this because you actually have feelings for me or if it’s all because of the ‘ _mate bond’_ ”

 

            “Either way it doesn’t seem to matter anymore,” Derek said, no longer shouting but the anger was still apparent in his voice, “now that Scott’s here.”

 

            “God, _what is your issue with him?_ He’s literally been here half a day and you already don’t even like him. Why are you acting like this?”

 

            “I would think it’d be pretty obvious,” Derek muttered, jaw clenched.

 

            “What, are you worried that he’s going to take me away from you or something? That I’m gonna run off into the distance, settle down and adopt little werebabies with _Scott?_ ” Derek tensed and Stiles’ eyes widened as realization sunk in. “Wha – you think I’m in love with Scott? _Scott._ Are you serious? Were you not listening to me at the cascades? He’s my _best friend_ and he’s currently head over heels for Gerard Argent’s granddaughter, which is kind of tragic now once you think about it,” Stiles laughed lightly at the realization, the tension easing out of him. It was just a minor miscommunication. That’s why Derek was being irrational. “I am _so_ not in love with Scott, jeeze Derek you’re an idiot.” There we go, air cleared crisis averted.

 

            “You don’t have to be such an asshole about it,” Derek said, the anger still in his voice. Okay maybe crises not so averted. “But you’re right. I am an idiot.” He turned and stalked back towards the front door, tension rolling through his shoulders.

 

            “Derek, wait, what the hell!” Stiles called after him. Derek froze. “Yeah, you’re an idiot, but I meant it in the fond way. Like a ‘you’re an idiot but you’re _my_ idiot kind of – “

 

            “No,” Derek cut him off, hand gripping the door handle. “I’m just an idiot. _Such an idiot._ I let my imagination and what I want distract me from the reality of the situation.”

 

            “What ‘ _reality’_ Derek?” Stiles shot back, desperately.

 

            “That you’re not mine to keep. You never were.”

 

            “How do you _know_ that? The month isn’t even over yet, you don’t know what’s going on in my mind,” Stiles huffed.

 

            “No, I don’t,” Derek agreed, “actions may speak louder than words, but sometimes it’s the words that carry the most weight. I’ve been waxing poetic for _weeks_ about the mate bond, how much I care about you, how I literally almost lost my mind when I almost lost _you_. And as petty as it sounds, more than anything I wanted verbal confirmation that you felt the same way about me that I did about you. But when it didn’t come…I told myself it was no big deal. The intent was there in your actions, maybe you weren’t one for expressing feelings, and maybe this was just a little too much for you to get a grip on. But you’re in the same room with _Scott_ for all of five minutes and you’re throwing down an ‘I love you’ like it’s nothing and I realized that I’ve just been fooling myself this whole time.”

 

            “So you’re having a complete conniption because I told Scott, my _best friend_ , that I love him?”

 

            “ _No,_ ” Derek said, voice seeping with frustration as he threw open the door, taking a single step through it and looking back over his shoulder at Stiles. “I’m having a ‘complete conniption’ because _I am madly in love with you_. And it took me until today to realize that you’re never going to feel the same way. I love you, Stiles. Not that it changes anything.” Derek stepped fully outside and shut the door behind him, Laura wasn’t kidding about the fact that he liked to make an exit.

 

            _God dammit Derek you are so thick._

           

            “That changes _everything_ , are you serious right now Derek!” Stiles wrenched open the door, but Derek was nowhere to be found. He ran out and followed the path to the main road calling out his name, but it seemed Derek was long gone. 

           

            Stiles huffed, debating on whether on not he should try to chase after him, but in the end he decided it was pointless. He returned to the cabin and collapsed on one of Derek’s couches, already exhausted and the day was barely half over.

 

            Derek would have to come back eventually.

 

           

* * *

 

            A little while later, Stiles was sure how much later because he’d lost track of time, there was a tentative knock on the door. Refusing to leave his comfy post on the couch he just shouted out “Come in!” Moments later Scott plopped next to him on the couch.

 

            “Phew, information overload,” he said rubbing his forehead.

 

            “So they tell you all nitty gritty details, like how they’re not the bad guys and that Gerard is very questionable and about the centuries old feud and such?”

 

            “Yeah,” Scott nodded. “They uh told me about the whole tribute thing too.” Stiles cringed a little bit. “Like how it started…and what it means. So I think it’s time we talk about that, about Derek. Speaking of which, where is he?”

 

            “We kind of had a fight. Kind of over you, but really not. It ended with him telling me he loved me but that it ‘didn’t change anything’ and stalking out the door. Basically we both fail at using our words and expressing emotions and Derek is apparently the jealous type. He thought I was in love with _you._ ”

 

            Scott crinkled his nose. “Ew.”

           

            “Right? No offense of course. I mean, I love you. But in the ‘hey you’re my best friend and you’re awesome’ kind of way,” Stiles said.

 

            “Trust me, I get you. But what about Derek do you…love him, too?” Scott asked tentatively. “I mean you totally smell like him. This whole place smells like both of you…in more ways than one. Oh _god_ I can smell that now! Jesus Stiles, I’m happy for you, but I don’t want to know the…intimate details _,_ okay?”

 

            “Oh shut up,” Stiles chided, “I had to deal with all your Alison shit for the longest time. Payback’s a bitch. And I don’t know man I really think I do. Love him, that is. I was just waiting for him to say something first you know? I was too scared to put myself out there. But now I wish I had because if he knew how I felt about him then maybe this fight wouldn’t have happened.”

 

            “Fighting with Allison is probably one of the worst feelings ever, I know you know cause I used to bitch about it to you all the time,” Scott said sheepishly. “Just apologize. Say you’re sorry for something, anything really, and just stop being an idiot and tell him how you feel. He put himself out there now it’s your turn.”

 

            “When did you get so wise, normally it’s me talking you out of your relationship problems, not vice versa,” Stiles acknowledged with mock astonishment.

 

            Scott laughed at that. “It’s about time someone started listening to my advice I actually know what I’m talking about most of the time.”

 

            They’d been talking for a while, Stiles catching Scott up on everything that had been happening in the past few weeks that he’d been in the Hale village (they kept away from the topic of home, knowing it be too painful for them both), when there was a knock at the door. The knock was immediately followed by the door opening and Stiles wasn’t surprised to see Laura in the doorway, she seemed to have a habit of letting herself in to Derek’s place unannounced.

 

            She grinned as she saw Stiles and held out a hand to Scott.

 

            “I’m Laura, I’m Peter’s niece. I’ll be training you in the ‘art of control,’ that’s what Peter calls it at least. Basically I’ll be your guide on ‘how to not become a homicidal monster once a month.’”

 

            Scott blanched at that and Stiles couldn’t help but laugh.

 

            “I was kidding…sort of,” She said not so reassuringly. “But anyways, Peter wants us to start ASAP so I say we get to it. Stiles, you should come too.”

 

  

* * *

 

 

            They ended up in the clearing, Laura doing a lot of talking and Scott making a lot of confused faces. Naomi had tagged along to watch, because eventually she’d be going through the same process and Laura wanted her to see it from the sidelines first. Stiles sat with her in the grass and listened to her blabber on; her stories were actually pretty enjoyable. She went around picking buttercups, tying them all together, making two flower-crowns. She put one on her head and one on Stiles’, pronouncing them King and Queen Buttercup. Stiles couldn’t help laughing along with her giggles. It was a beautiful day out, the sky was clear and the air was warm. It was pretty late in the afternoon so the sun was on its way towards the horizon.

 

            “I want you to find an anchor,” Stiles could hear Laura explain. “Before we work on shifting, I need you to try to focus on control. If you shift and can’t control it, then I’m going to have to hurt you. Pain brings your human side back. But there are other ways to get there. Think of something, someone that keeps you grounded and hold on to that when you shift, it will keep you in control.”

 

            It seemed the first lesson was a lot of talking, mostly going through the motions, but Stiles could see that Scott was absorbing everything Laura was telling him and he seemed very serious about the lesson. By the end he’d shifted once completely and there was a moment where Stiles thought he was going to lose it, but he reined himself in and the moment passed and Scott was once again fully human. He looked over at Stiles grinning madly and Stiles shot him a thumbs up.

 

            Laura invited both boys back to her place for dinner where they spent the meal recounting the most embarrassing childhood stories they could think of, each trying to out do the other. There was lots of laughter and certain lightness to the atmosphere, and it was exactly what Stiles needed. When he and Scott made a move to leave, Laura put her hand on Stiles’ shoulder and gripped it with a reassuring whisper of, “He’ll come around, just wait it out okay? He’ll be home tonight.”

 

            Stiles didn’t know how she knew about the fight, but he nodded in thanks.

 

            “So do I need to even take a wild guess as to what your anchor is?” Stiles asked Scott on the walk back to Derek’s. Night had fallen so Scott was basically making sure Stiles got back all right before he went his own way to Deaton’s.

 

            “Allison,” Scott said simply with a shrug and a smile. It was good though. If she was what kept Scott in check, then he was thankful for it.

 

            When they were outside Derek’s cabin Stiles turned and hesitantly asked, “Can you hear Derek in there, is he home?”

 

            Scott paused, listening for a moment and then shook his head sadly. “Sorry dude, he’s not home and I don’t think he’s been home since earlier. Let me know how things go, okay. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

 

            “Yeah, I’ll uh, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Stiles nodded and waved to Scott as he climbed the porch steps and walked into the cabin. It was so empty without Derek. Sure he’d been in there alone plenty of times, but it was different now. Tension still hung in the air.

 

            Stiles decided to lounge on the couch and read so he could talk thing out with Derek as soon as he walked through the door. At some point or another, Stiles must have drifted off because he was woken with a start when the front door banged open.

 

            “Stiles?” though the haze of post-sleep Stiles recognized Laura’s voice. He leapt off the couch, almost falling right back down on his ass, and rushed towards the door.

 

            “Wha’ going on, is everythin’ okay?” Stiles asked groggily, still half asleep.

 

            “I – I don’t know to be honest, I don’t know.” Laura sounded confused and unsure. It worried Stiles immensely; he’d never seen Laura like this. “Derek was out in the woods and he came across Chris and Gerard Argent.”

 

            The words alone sent Stiles into full consciousness. “Laura. Is he okay, holy crap Laura I swear to god if something happened to him and we –“

 

            “Stiles, let me finish,” Laura cut in as calmly as she could. “They were arguing apparently. Derek wasn’t close enough to be seen by them, but he could hear bits and pieces of what they were saying. Gerard stormed off, and the next thing Derek knew Gerard was there and attacked Derek.”

 

            “Is Derek okay? Please, _please_ tell me he’s okay, Laura,” Stiles said, panicking.

 

            “Derek is fine Stiles, okay? He’s fine,” She reassured gently. “Gerard ran off quickly after realizing that Derek could easily overtake him, and Derek didn’t see him afterwards. Derek’s with Deaton because whatever Gerard attacked him with was laced with wolfsbane, and getting wolfsbane out of our systems is a process. Derek is fine though.”

 

            “Okay,” Stiles breathed, nodding. “Okay. Then what did you mean when you said you weren’t sure if everything was okay.”

 

            Laura bit her lip, “From what we got from Derek, Chris and your father finally found out that Gerard’s been lying to the village for years, as well as a few other things that Derek couldn’t make out, but he said it sounded serious. Chris was absolutely furious. We don’t know what Gerard’s been up to, but we’re going to try to arrange a meeting with Chris Argent and your father. Apparently, though, the council was told as well as the rest of the village and a decision was made.”

 

            “A…decision?”

 

            “They stripped him of his political power as well as his place in the community. Gerard Argent has been exiled from his own village.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this chapter was a little on the boring side, it's setting up for a lot of the events to come!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, sorry this took so long. So much to do with school, very little extra time. There should be two more chapters after this one (probably one long one and an epilogue that will come out at the same time) and hopefully (emphasis on the hopefully) that won't take as long as these past two!
> 
> I'd like to thank you all for reading. And being patient with me and my terrible time between updates. You're awesome.

            Their explosive fight from earlier be damned, when Derek came home that night Stiles launched himself across the room and into Derek’s chest, wrapping his arms around his back. Derek froze for a moment before he folded Stiles into his arms and buried his face into his neck and whined.

 

            Derek gripped Stiles with all his might while gasping a repeated, ”I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Stiles just shushed him, and pulled away so he could hike up Derek’s shirt, looking for whatever damage Gerard had done. Derek pulled his shirt up and over his head and Stiles gasped as he took in the sight of a jagged gash that looked like it had been done weeks ago.

 

            “Are you…is it going to be okay?” Stiles asked quietly. Derek nodded and pulled Stiles back into his chest.

 

            “Whatever he had was laced with wolfsbane,” Derek said softly in his ear. “Deaton got as much of it out of the wound as possible which sped things up. It’s healing, if slowly. But at this rate, by tomorrow it will be as if it never even happened.”

 

            Derek was shaking slightly and it was obvious the day had taken a toll on him so there was no ulterior motive when Stiles pulled him to the bedroom. Added to that, it probably wasn’t best to fall into bed without talking through their fight, so Stiles stripping them both down was strictly for sleeping purposes.

 

            “I’m sorry too, you know,” Stiles said as he lay on Derek’s chest once they’d both settled.

 

            “Don’t be,” Derek said, shaking his head, sounding pained. “I should be the one apologizing. I over-reacted and then I stormed out, which I should not have done. I was acting upon jealousy earlier. It’s no excuse.”

 

            “I wish you’d understand that you have absolutely no reason to be jealous. Scott is like the brother I never had, and everything between us is completely platonic. Besides, he doesn’t even swing our way, or really swing any way that isn’t Allison to be honest.”

 

            “I know that…now,” Derek mumbled, refusing to meet Stiles’ eyes. “I’m not going to lie though and say that I’m not still jealous of him, but I’m jealous in a different way before. You guys grew up together so he’s known you since you were kids. I’ve only had these few weeks. He knows you so much better than I do, maybe better than I ever will, and I envy him for that. That and him being here means I get to spend less time with you,” Derek finished grumpily.

 

            “Just because Scott’s here that doesn’t mean I’m not going to be with you as much as I was before. He’ll be busy with his werewolf stuff and I’ll get to see him while I’m working at Deaton’s. I’ll try to see him when you’re at work or doing pack business. I mean this is all so different and really frightening for him, so I do want to be there for him as much as I can.”

 

            Derek nodded, carding one of his hands through Stile’s hair while his free arm pulled Stile’s closer.

 

            “If it’s any consolation, you should know that I’ve been an idiot, too. This is all so new to me and I didn’t want to ruin it, so I was pretty reserved about voicing what I felt, and what I’m feeling for you,” Stiles paused and took a breath. “Derek, I love you. I am so in love with you, it’s a little terrifying. I guess I was waiting for you to say it first and –”

 

            Stiles was interrupted from what he was going to say next by Derek making a low noise in the back of his throat and surging forward to cut off Stiles’ ramble with a fervent kiss. Stiles made a noise of protest before he thought, “Well, fuck it,” and returned Derek’s kiss with equal passion.

           

            Eventually they broke apart and lay there for a while, gasping for air together. Stiles settled back into his place on Derek’s chest, nowhere near done with this conversation.

 

            “Derek you have to promise me something,” Stiles said breaking the silence, looking up at Derek from where his chin rested on his folded hands that were laid on Derek’s chest, hands and face rising and falling with Derek’s breathing. Derek nodded for Stiles to continue.

 

            “In the future if, okay let’s be honest here _when,_ we fight, promise me you won’t run off like that again okay? If I run off you can just listen for me or find me through scent. I can’t do that. If you run off, I can’t come after you. If you’re pissed go up into the loft and fume up there, or come shut yourself in here. But don’t run away from this house mad. If I swear to do the same, can you promise me that?”

 

            “I know I shouldn’t have run off, I was being a coward after my…confession. But yes, Stiles. I promise,” Derek replied quietly, and then froze. “Wait, you said ‘in the future’ meaning…”

 

            “We can talk about this more tomorrow, because we also need to talk about what went down between you and the Argents.” Derek stiffened a little at the mention of the name. “But yes, Derek. The future.”

 

             “Yeah?” Derek asked quietly, the hope in his voice making Stiles’ stomach flutter.

 

            Stiles didn’t know how to convey how serious he was through words, so he placed a gentle hand on Derek’s cheek and nodded, repeating Derek’s simple question as a simple statement.

 

 

 

            “Yeah.”

 

* * *

 

            True to Derek’s words, the next morning the cut across his stomach was nothing more than a pink line that didn’t look like it would be staying very long.

 

            Laura and Peter showed up soon after Stiles and Derek woke, wanting to hear as much as Derek could tell them about the night before.

 

            “I came across them right where their territory borders ours. Chris was furious; Gerard was as stoic as ever. From what I could hear Chris and the village’s Sheriff had launched an investigation and didn’t like what they found,” at Derek’s casual mention of his dad, Stiles tensed. He forgot that Derek had no idea of who his father was. “I guess the lies and deceit that have been passed down the Argent line were finally brought to light. Though I’m not sure if I trust Chris.  I don’t know if this was all some ploy to gain power and he’s known his father’s secrets all along or if he really has been in the dark this whole time.”

 

            “The Sheriff and Argent’s son launched an investigation?” Peter questioned. Derek nodded. “Interesting, that means that Gerard must’ve been the only one to know the truth. It’s a surprise no one found out or exposed him. There are always sympathizers and those who do not trust the law or authority figures, with good reason. I wonder how he kept them quiet.”

 

            “If there was an investigation,” Laura began, “then there had to have been some sort of justification behind it.”

 

            “Scott,” Stiles whispered, more to himself than anyone else. But due to the fact that he was in the company of werewolves, his whisper did not go unnoticed and three gazes were suddenly on him.

 

            “Scott getting bitten isn’t really justification for an investigation of a political figure,” Laura said.

 

            Stiles shook his head, “No, it’s not that. A while back, Scott was out in the woods with Chris Argent doing border checks. He saw Derek and I at the cascades and when he got back to my village he told my father, Chris, and Gerard that he’d seen me. He saw the way Derek and I interacted and knew that I wasn’t being held against my will. He said I looked happy, happier than I’d been in ages. So he proceeds to tell the three of them that maybe the village had been wrong all along about the wolves.”

 

            “And?” Peter urged.

 

            “He said my dad looked heartbroken, and told Scott he was just seeing things. That I was dead. Chris just looked a mix between shocked and confused. But Gerard looked furious and shot Scott down immediately. Then a few days later he’s bitten. Even if the events don’t correlate, that’s still pretty suspicious. Even if it’s not really solid evidence, they could still make a pretty good argument for the legality of the investigation.”

 

            Peter nodded and turned to Derek. “Do you have any idea what they found?”

 

            “None,” Derek answered, shaking his head. “Chris said that what Gerard had done was “unforgivable” but I don’t know if that means just the decades of lying or if they found something else.”

 

            “I guess we’ll find out,” Peter said, standing to leave. Laura followed suit.  “The Argent leaders have requested an audience with us tomorrow. It will be an ideal time to question Chris to see not only if he’s being truthful with all this, but to also see where his loyalties really lie.”

 

            Peter turned to leave, but before he made it to the door Stiles stopped him with a shouted, “Wait!”

 

            He turned back to Stiles and cocked and eyebrow.

 

            “The Sheriff?” Stiles questioned. “Will he be coming along with Chris tomorrow?”

 

            Peter nodded, “From what I’m told, yes. Why?”

 

            “Well then,” Stiles huffed out a breath and turned to Derek. “Looks like you’ll be meeting my father.”

 

            Derek immediately went white as a sheet. Laura laughed the whole way out the door.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

            Sometime after Laura and Peter had left and before Stiles headed off to Deaton’s and Derek set of for his patrols, the duo curled up on one of Derek’s couches. Stiles could sense that Derek was itching to say something.

 

            “You want to say something, but you won’t. Just spit it out,” Stiles said.

 

            Derek hesitated before tentatively asking, “Last night when you said…what you said about the future. What did you mean by that?”

 

            “This town, your cabin, being with you, is the most at home I think I’ve ever felt in my life. Sure, it’s not exactly easy being away from my dad, but I’ve made my choice, Derek. And it’s you. I want _you_ to be my future. So, sorry, but you’re kinda gonna have to deal with me, well, forever.”

 

            The next thing he knew, Stiles was on his back and Derek was hovering over him, an easy grin spread across his face, his expression completely open. “That’s all I ever wanted,” Derek whispered breathlessly between kisses. “ _You’re_ all I ever wanted.”

 

            If Stiles was almost late for work (keyword: _almost_ ) because Derek decided to blow him right then and there on the couch, then sue him, he deserved it.

 

            He had to admit though, the look Scott gave him when he walked into the clinic and Scott caught a whiff of what he’d been up to was kind of priceless.

 

 

 

* * *

 

            Derek and Stiles were halfway through a rather peaceful dinner that night when a chorus of howls interrupted their chatter. Derek immediately dropped his fork and shot a panicked look to Stiles. After a tense few minutes of Derek pacing and Stiles being a little too afraid to ask what was going on, one long, low howl broke the silence.

 

            “That was Peter,” Derek said, immediately rushing into the bedroom. Stiles followed, thoroughly confused. “It’s the Ferals, there’s been another attack and they’ve breached the borders,” Derek said as he changed into one of the ratty t-shirts he wore on patrol. “This could get really bad very quickly, so I need you to stay here and –”

 

            “No,” Stiles argued. “I’m not staying behind this time, Derek.”

 

            “Stiles, please don’t do this,” Derek pleaded. “It’s too dangerous out there.”

           

            “I’m not some damsel in distress that you can leave behind,” Stiles countered. “I’m coming with you. And if you leave me here I’ll just follow you either way. You’re not leaving me behind this time!”

 

            “I’m not going to risk taking you out there!”

 

            “You said they’ve breached the borders,” Stiles continued as if he hadn’t heard Derek. “Our house is pretty far from the center of the village, it’ll be one of the first the Ferals will encounter. I’ll be like a sitting duck if you leave me here alone.”

 

            “I’ll take you to Laura’s,” Derek said.

 

            “Yeah because _that_ worked out so well the first time,” Stiles shot back, eyebrows raised. “If I come with you, we’ll be with each other the whole time. I won’t have to worry about you; you won’t have to worry about me. I can fight, Derek. My dad’s been teaching me self defense and hand-to-hand combat since I was little, amongst other things, and that’s how I picked up on Shawn’s knife techniques so quickly.”

 

            “I didn’t know that,” Derek said, looking genuinely surprised.

 

            “Yeah, well you don’t have a Sheriff dad without learning some tools of the trade,” Stiles shrugged. “Look, Derek. I may be human, but that doesn’t mean I’m weak. Let me come with you.”

 

            Derek clenched his jaw but eventually he nodded, “You have to do everything I say though, alright? If I tell you to get out of there and leave me, you have to listen to me, promise?”

 

            “But –”

           

            “ _Promise?_ ”

 

            “Yeah,” Stiles finally said grudgingly. “Yeah, okay. I promise.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

            It was quiet at first. According to Erica and Boyd, the Ferals had been coming in in waves. They’d rush in and attack and then pull back, only to do so again. Erica, Boyd, and Isaac were part of Derek’s patrol group so they were in the surrounding forest somewhere. Stiles kind of wanted to make a sly comment to Isaac about Danny, but decided that now was probably _not_ the best time for that. Stiles stayed close to Derek while they waited, which Derek had told him to do, but he wouldn’t have left Derek’s side anyways.

 

            When the Ferals came back for another attack, Stiles could tell that Derek was surprised by his overall skill when it came to fighting. He probably should’ve mentioned it to Derek a little earlier on, but it was kind of a village secret, many of the kids his age had been trained in the same way. The training was an order from Gerard. Gerard’s reasoning behind it had been that it was for self-defense, in case there were ever any run-ins with Hale pack. But now that Stiles knew the wolves from Derek’s village had been protecting them all along, Stiles was certainly very curious of the real motive.

 

            Stiles was good, but it was impossible for him to be on the same level as a supernatural being, so now and again he got a few nicks or scratches from teeth or claws. It ended up working in his favor, though because any time one of them so much as touched Stiles, Derek went apeshit and made them regret it.  Derek was beautiful in action, wolfed out and blue-eyed he moved with such fluidity and grace for someone of his stature that Stiles actually had to force himself to focus on the rabid wolves that were coming at him periodically instead of Derek’s impressive fighting techniques.

 

            Fighting alongside Derek was definitely interesting. It was like they were on the same page for everything, moving together effortlessly like some sort of unspoken dance. Derek had claws and force; Stiles possessed a dagger and finesse, each being careful to stay away from the others’ weapon.

 

            Most of the Ferals didn’t stay around long enough to sustain any mortal damage. It was like as soon as they realized they weren’t going to breach the blockade that Derek and the rest of them had set up or they realized they couldn’t win the fight, they hightailed it back the way they came. Eventually the waves of wolves came more spread out, with a smaller amount attacking each time until the attacks stopped all together. They waited though, just in case, until regular border patrol came and relieved them of their posts.

 

            Stiles was exhausted but at the same time adrenaline was pumping through his body, keying him up with excitement. It seemed Derek felt the same; he was almost giddy, which was a strange look on the normally reserved man.

 

            “That was the best I’ve ever fought,” he declared as they walked through the doors of the cabin. “You should come on border patrols more often, I’m so much more focused and completely grounded when you’re around.” He turned to Stiles with a grin and pinned him up against the closed front door, sealing his mouth with a kiss and placing a thigh between his legs. Whatever reply Stiles had been about to say was thrown totally out the window. Derek’s mouth moved against his with such enthusiasm, and Stiles could actually _feel_ him smile into each kiss, each one getting more and more desperate.

 

            “I just…keep thinking about…what you said earlier,” Derek gasped between kisses. “That you’re staying…that I get to keep you.” With those last words Derek ground into Stiles and moved his mouth to Stiles’ neck, short circuiting his brain for a second from the friction, which is probably why Stiles’ mouth moved faster than his mind.

 

            “You should really fuck me,” Stiles gasped and then froze as the realization of what he’d just said dawned on him. Derek froze too from where he was sucking a bruise onto Stiles’ neck, but Stiles wasn’t sure if was in reaction to him freezing up or because of the words themselves.

 

            Derek pulled away slowly, eyes wide, and moved his hands to Stiles’ waist, settling them gently, almost cautiously. His lips swollen from kissing, hair rumpled from Stiles’ hands, and expression soft and questioning, Derek met Stiles’ eyes. Stiles almost forgot to breathe.

 

            “You…you want that?” Derek questioned, a little breathless. And, was he for real right now? Either it was a rhetorical question or Derek was immensely thick.

 

            “No, Derek. I’m completely in love with you and ridiculously attracted to you, but nope, there’s no way I’d ever want to have sex with you,” Stiles replied sarcastically. “God, Derek. _Yes,_ I want to have sex with you. Like I want to have all the sex with you all time okay?”

 

            Derek blushed, “Okay, good. The, uh…the feeling is definitely mutual.” Stiles grinned at that. “But not tonight. I want to make sure you’re comfortable with…receiving. And if you’re not we can always…uh, switch roles. There are things you should know about penetrative sex between werewolves and mates –”

 

            “Okay, first things first,” Stiles cut in, “please never use the word ‘penetrative’ or any other variant of said word ever again.” Derek’s blush deepened. “Secondly, if you’re talking about knotting, I already know.”

 

            That seemed to throw Derek for a loop. “You know about knotting?” he asked, a mix between confused and genuinely curious. “Most humans have no idea it even exists unless they’re mated to a wolf or they live in a village of werewolves like this one.”

 

            Stiles shrugged, “I was bored at work one day, Deaton has a book about werewolf anatomy and physiology in his office, I got curious, ended up on the reproduction chapter, and the rest is history. You know, once I wanted to ask Shawn a perfectly normal question and he immediately thought I wanted to ask him about werewolf sex and he kind of freaked out. Now I know why.”

 

            “Does it freak you out too?” Derek asked cautiously. “The knotting?”

 

            “Nope,” Stiles said shaking his head. He could see Derek visible relax when he detected that Stiles was telling the truth. “The idea is a little foreign to me, but then again anything to do with sex or intimacy was foreign to me before I met you.”

 

            Derek couldn’t help but smile at that. “You already knowing saves me a lot of mental anguish and embarrassment at trying to explain it to you myself. Since you’re okay with it, I’ll make you a promise I’ll prep you tonight like I would for the real deal. It might feel strange at first, but the second it hurts or makes you seriously uncomfortable or you decide you don’t like it, tell me immediately, okay? If you like it, then next time for sure. But not tonight.”

 

            Stiles nodded in understanding, but a playful smirk began to form on his lips. “Even if I do like it, I still think I’d definitely be into the whole ‘switching roles’ thing,” Stiles’ voice dropped and he leaned in to whisper, “I’d love to have you on your knees, begging for mercy from the sex god that is Stiles Stilinski.”

 

            Though Derek’s arms tightened at Stiles’ waist at his words, he rolled his eyes. “If you don’t stop being such a smug little shit I’m gonna take out my annoyance by dragging this out until _you_ beg for it.”

 

            As it turned out, Derek did just that.

 

            Not that he meant to of course, it was just kind of how the evening played out. After getting Stiles naked, he went to work with his mouth; licking and sucking to coax Stiles into full hardness. Once he’d accomplished that he pulled his mouth off of Stiles, despite his mate’s whines of protest, to move to the bedside table where he’d been keeping the lubricant.

 

            Stiles watched with wide eyes as Derek settled back between his legs and slicked up a finger, placing the open bottle onto the ground within easy reach. Using his clean hand, he grasped Stiles’ cock and began to work him slowly. With the other he circled the pad of his finger over Stiles’ hole smirking a little when Stiles gasped and arched a little at the sensation. “Relax,” he said gently, slowly slipping the tip of his finger past the tight ring of muscle.

 

            The feeling was definitely a little foreign, but not uncomfortable, so Stiles coaxed Derek on, letting him know he could take it. Derek slowly worked his finger in until it reached the knuckle, Stiles constantly reminding himself to stay relaxed.

 

            When Derek started working his finger in and out, Stiles no longer had to force himself to relax. The friction actually felt _good._ After a while, Stiles felt himself wanting more, so he gasped out, “Another.” Derek obliged, reslicking his fingers before he slowly worked in a second as he took Stiles back into his mouth. This time Stiles felt a little bit of pain, though the slick and Derek’s mouth on his cock lessened it.

 

            Eventually the pain receded, giving way to pleasure. Derek’s fingers were as deep as they could go, and he alternated between thrusting and scissoring. At one point, Derek crooked his fingers as he was pulling out to thrust back in and Stiles actually cried out in surprise as Derek’s fingers grazed over a place that sent sparks throughout his body. Whatever it was, _holy shit_ did it feel good when Derek brushed up against it.

 

            Derek built up a rhythm, occasionally sweeping up against the spot every now and then, seeming pleased with himself when he got the same reaction every time. Derek’s hand left where it was holding Stiles’ cock at the base, though his mouth remained. Stiles couldn’t see what he was doing with it, but he assumed he was currently jacking himself off which, _hot_ , so Stiles reached down to steady his own dick so Derek could have an easier time sucking it.

 

            “God, Derek. Please, please, please,” Stiles begged. ‘Please’ what, he wasn’t exactly sure, but Stiles didn’t really care about making sense that this point. “More, more of something, more of anything. Just, I need _more_. Please, _oh my god_ it feels so good.” Derek’s mouth was still working Stiles’ shaft and Stiles was enjoying himself so much he hardly noticed when a third finger slipped in along the others. And _wow_ once Stiles acclimated to being so stretched all he could do was lie back and take it as Derek fucked him with his fingers. Stiles was sweaty and shaking, he was being absolutely taken apart piece by piece by someone’s _fingers_ , something he’d not thought possible until now.

 

            With all the sensation, Stiles was surprised he had lasted this long, which was why his climax blindsided him. One last brush of Derek’s fingers over that one sensitive spot and Stiles was coming a hundred times harder than he had that first time in the shower. He arched and writhed and let out a god-awful noise as it hit, Derek swallowing as much of the come as he could. Stiles had made his decision; he _definitely_ was not opposed to having things inside his ass.  

 

            As Stiles came down, Derek gently pulled his fingers out, grunting as he finished himself off. Stiles was going to offer to help but before he could, Derek was following him over the edge, biting into his free arm to contain his moan. Once he was done, he rested his cheek on Stiles’ thigh, breathing heavily. Stiles reached down to brush his hands through Derek’s hair.

 

            After a while Derek looked up at Stiles and asked breathily, “Did you like that?”

 

            “Did I _like_ – I swear, Derek. What is up with you and your obviously answerable questions tonight? God, _yes_ I liked that. Shit, I _loved_ that.”

 

            Derek just grinned and moved up to kiss him before making his way to the bathroom, coming back with a washcloth to clean them both up. When they were both clean Derek blushed before squatting at the foot of the bed.

 

            “I kind of got made a mess on the floor,” he said sheepishly, wiping at the wood. Once he was done, he just tossed the washcloth into the bathroom and plopped down on the bed next to Stiles, pulling him close and nuzzling into his neck. Stiles lay there contentedly for a little until a thought occurred to him and he laughed. Derek looked at him with narrowed eyes and a questioned “What?”

 

            Stiles just laughed again before saying, “I almost forgot, you get to meet my dad tomorrow.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

            Not surprisingly, Peter told Derek to bring Stiles along to the meeting with Chris and his father. It was in the village’s town hall where, according to Derek, all the political shenanigans and meetings of the higher ups went down. Scott and Deaton were in attendance too, as well as Laura. The rest of the people Stiles had seen before; either at the bonfire so long ago seated at Peter’s table, around town, or through working at Deaton’s clinic. One or two he’d seen at all of them above so they greeted him with waves and polite smiles.

 

            They waited in the hall for a while before Peter approached Stiles. “They should be here soon,” he said. “If you’d like a more private reunion with your father, feel free to meet him outside beforehand.”

 

            “You want to come with me?” Stiles asked, turning towards Derek who looked a little panicked.

 

            “What if he doesn’t like me?” Derek questioned, sounding distressed. “What if he _shoots_ me?”

 

            Luckily for Derek, as it turns out, neither happened. He and Stiles passed Christ Argent on the way out, who nodded to Stiles, giving him a firm squeeze on the shoulder as he passed.

 

            Stepping out into the afternoon sun, Stiles caught sight of his father at the foot of the halls steps. He couldn’t help himself as he flew down the steps and flung himself into his father’s embrace. His father gripped him in what must have been the biggest bear hug Stiles had ever received.  “I missed you kiddo,” his father said, sounding choked. “I thought I’d lost you, I’m so glad you’re alive.”

 

            Eventually, they broke apart, which was when his father spotted Derek who was standing awkwardly at the top of the stairs. Derek immediately came down the stairs and held his hand out in greeting.

 

            “I’m Derek Hale, nice to meet you sir,” Derek said as the sheriff shook his hand.

 

            “So this is the man in your life?” his father asked looking from Stiles to Derek and then back to Stiles again. Stiles just nodded and smiled sheepishly. The sheriff smiled (a genuinely happy one Stiles might add) and said with all sincerity, “Well it’s nice to meet you Derek. I look forward to getting to know you better. But from what I’m told we have some business to take care of.”

 

 

  

* * *

 

 

            “We had another teenager bitten in the attacks last night,” Chris said solemnly. “One of my councilmen’s sons, Jackson Whittemore.”

 

            “I am deeply sorry,” Peter said. “We recently had another come to us, Scott McCall, though that was before Gerard’s exile. He is currently going through a training process that will allow him to use his new supernatural abilities for good, as well as teach him to control himself. Your Jackson is more than welcome to join him. Also, speaking of Gerard, I am rather curious to know how everything played out with him?”

 

            “As you well know he, and my grandfather and all the Argent men before them, have been lying to the village about your true nature,” Chris began. “When Scott came to us claiming that he’d seen Stiles we blew it off…until we saw the way Gerard reacted to the news. It was definitely out of character, Gerard doesn’t react to anything, and very suspicious so we launched an investigation. We found the records of how things really went down all those centuries ago, along with countless drawers upon drawers of messages from your village from over the years seeking a more amiable peace and offering help in times of need. I don’t need to even ask to know all the letters have gone unanswered.”

 

            “So Gerard’s been lying to all of you, all along. Even his own son. I find it hard to believe he accomplished this on his own,” Peter said with raised eyebrows.

 

            Christ nodded, “Gerard was in this all by himself. But he did have a little extra help.”

 

            “That doesn’t make much sense at all…but I can hear from the steady beat of your heart that you are indeed telling the truth. Please do elaborate,” Peter encouraged.

 

            “As I’m sure your nephew has told you, we exiled Gerard from the village. The endless stream of lies is only part of it. You wonder how he’d done this all by himself for so long, so did we. And that’s when we found my father’s secret. It’s strange, there is almost always going to be naysayers or those who question authority in a large group of people. But we never had that. The people of our village followed Gerard blindly. What he believed so did everyone else. What he said was law. That doesn’t happen naturally in any society, no matter how happy everyone is. But like I said, my father had a little help.”

 

            “From what?” Peter asked, absorbed by Chris’ words.

 

            “It seems somewhere along the line my father picked up a nasty habit for black magic,” Chris said, the disgust clear in his voice. “And he’s been using it to control and force unquestioning allegiance to him onto every single person within our village’s borders.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So knotting. That's happening. What am I even doing with my life.
> 
> Also I literally can't believe I used the word "penetrative" that word just makes me immensely uncomfortable.
> 
> Lastly, STILINSKI FAMILY FEELS.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These last two chapters have been fighting me tooth and nail and I've had the worst writers block for this story and I'm the kind of person where if I'm not completely happy with something I won't post it. Thank you all for being so patient with my terrible updating.

            The rest of the meeting was a worrisome event. According to Chris, Gerard had wanted to take down the Hale village for some time, claiming they were monsters and that the Argent village should act proactively before it was too late. The council had been very against this idea, stating they’d only fight if they were attacked first. He also wanted to purge the other surrounding villages of their werewolf populations and take them over afterwards to increase the Argent power.

 

            They had Lydia gathering all the information she could from the books in Gerard’s study, but they still weren’t sure how Gerard’s magic worked or how he came about the magic itself. However the council breathed a sigh of relief when Chris informed them that for Gerard to have power, he must have a loyal following. Now that he no longer presided over the Argent village, he no longer had the source of power he did before. Right now Gerard was at his weakest, and the leaders of both villages wanted to take advantage of it. Search parties containing both wolves and humans would be sent out to see if they couldn’t catch Gerard while they had the chance. Though there wasn’t much hope that they’d actually find him, it let them feel like they were at least _trying_ instead of sitting back and doing nothing about it. Other than that, Gerard was being temporarily put out of the picture. Chris didn’t think he would try to do anything in his current state, his father was not a fool.

 

            The most pressing matter was currently the Feral pack. With Jackson being bitten the night before and the increasing strength of each of their attacks, both villages were feeling the pressure of the pack closing in. With the full moon barely two weeks away, Peter was worried. It seemed they were growing stronger and stronger, and if the past full moons had anything to show for it, it was almost certain there’d be an attack. The main goal of previous attacks was to contain the Ferals and try to keep them away from the village, killing only if necessary. However with the recent deaths and having two teenagers bitten, it seemed that being only on defense wasn’t going to cut it anymore.

 

            Neither the Argents nor the Hales wanted to take a chance this time around. While they weren’t comfortable with outright slaughter of a pack, it seemed to be the only option left in order to keep not only their village safe, but also the surrounding villages safe as well. After much debate it was eventually decided that the out of control pack should be taken down once and for all.

 

            It would be passed through each village that anyone of age, eighteen or older, was allowed to help in the fight. Scott and Jackson as well as any other werewolves not already trained for the night watch would train with the wolves on the watch. Chris Argent would reside in the Hale village, training the humans and planning with Peter. The Sherriff would be training the humans back home all while helping smooth out the mess that Gerard left behind, though from what he told Stiles, it would not be an easy task.

 

            The meeting was long and stressful but it ended with an alliance. Stiles could tell that the wolves were still a little hesitant to trust Chris and the rest of the village’s leaders, which was understandable of course.

 

            When Stiles followed Derek out of the town hall he was surprised to see that the sun hung far lower in the sky than he expected, teetering right on the edge of late afternoon and dusk. It had been a long day.

 

            Stiles waited outside the doors for his father to come out and when the Sheriff exited, looking far more stressed than Stiles had seen him in quite some time; Stiles couldn’t help but pull his father into another hug.

 

            “I would ask you to stay out of the fighting, but I know your mind’s already set,” his dad said as they broke their embrace. Stiles just gave him a halfhearted, sheepish smile. The Sheriff knew him too well.

 

            “Alright, well then,” he cleared his throat. “When this whole mess is over I expect the two of you – yes Derek that means you, too – over at my house for dinner the Friday after the full moon. Six o’clock don’t be late, no exceptions. I’d like to get to know the man my son’s over the moon for. But I’ll, uh, I’ll see the two of you on the full moon. Stay safe, son.” His dad ruffled Stiles’ hair and gave Derek a hug before nodding and following the rest of the Argent councilmen that were headed back to their village.

 

            Stiles watched him go until he looked over at Derek, who was frozen, also watching his father’s retreating figure.

 

            “Your dad just hugged me.”

           

            “Yep, it happens. He’s a hugger.”

 

            “He didn’t try to shoot me.”

 

            “I mean even if he did you would’ve been fine, werewolf healing and all.”

 

            “He wants us to come over for dinner.”

 

            “Well he loves himself a nice, hearty dinner. Now stop standing there all wide eyed, it’s been a long day and I want a nap.”

 

* * *

 

            “So if your dad can’t change your mind about you helping with the Ferals on the full moon I’m assuming it’s pretty pointless for me to even try?” Derek said later that night as he sat on the edge of his bed.

 

            Stiles was walking out of the bathroom, securing a towel around his hips while rubbing another one through his hair. Derek had another round of meetings to attend after dinner and was exhausted now that he was finally home.

 

            The news had been sent out through both villages, and preparations would start tomorrow. Laura was to continue with Scott, and now Jackson, on focusing on staying in control. Both had confirmed that they’d join the fighting.

           

            “Basically,” Stiles said with a shrug, obliging when Derek motioned for him to come sit in his lap. “But you knew that already, didn’t you? If you’re out there risking your life, I’m gonna be right there next to you risking mine. We ride together, we die together.”

 

            “Oh my god, you did not just say that,” Derek said, hiding his face in Stiles’ shoulder while shaking with laughter. “Why do I even associate with you?”

 

            “Because you love me,” Stiles grinned.

 

            “Yeah,” Derek smiled back, running his fingers through Stiles’ damp hair. “I do love you. But, you’ve got to be serious about this. The Ferals seem to be getting more and more ferocious. I don’t know if wolfsbane laced knives are going to be much help this time around.”

 

            “I know. But I hopefully won’t need them. I’m a pretty good with a crossbow.”

 

            Derek raised an eyebrow, looking genuinely surprised.

 

            “Hey now, don’t look so shocked. I’ll have you know I’ve got one of the best shots of anyone in the Argent village. Second only to Allison, Chris’s daughter, herself.”

 

            “I’d like to see that,” Derek said sincerely. “I bet you look hot with a crossbow slung over your shoulder. Just promise me you’ll work your ass off with training these next two weeks, okay?”

           

            “I will,” Stiles promised. “However, I could think of many more important things my ass could be doing _right now_ ,” he finished with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle.

 

            “Really Stiles.”

 

            “Yes, really! We could be dead in a fortnight okay, and I definitely wasn’t lying when I said I wanted to ‘have all the sex all the time,’” Stiles said, unabashed.

 

            “Stiles, I don’t think you know what this means. Sex, the knotting, it solidifies the bond. There’s no going back after this, if you wanted to change your mind –”

 

            “I’m not going to change my mind. And if it isn’t obvious enough already, I _really_ want this. I want you. Besides,” Stiles was blushing now. “I kind of already, uh, prepped myself. In the shower. While I was waiting for you to come home.”

 

            “ _Fuck,_ Stiles,” Derek breathed, hoisting him up off his lap and tossing him back on the bed. “Just… _fuck_. You can’t just _say_ shit like that.”

 

            “Well it worked, didn’t i–” Stiles question was immediately cut off by Derek blanketing his body over Stiles’ as he captured his mouth in a searing kiss. Stiles gasped as they pulled apart and chased Derek’s mouth for more as Derek delicately traced his fingers down the length of Stiles’ body.

 

            “I think your clothes to bare skin ratio is a little offensive compared to mine,” Stiles murmured against Derek’s jawline, tugging at his shirt. Pulling it up over his head, Derek went straight back to Stiles’ mouth, both of them reveling in the feel of bare skin on skin.

 

            “Did you think of me when you were fingering yourself in the shower?” Derek whispered, sounding strained, when Stiles started trailing his mouth down Derek’s neck with nips and kisses.

 

            “ _Yes_.”

 

            Suddenly, the warmth and familiar press of Derek was off of Stiles, leaving him a little confused as he watched Derek scramble for the bathroom. He was going to ask until Derek came out of the bathroom just as quickly, gripping the bottle of lube that Stiles had brought with him into the shower.

 

            He tossed it on the bed and quickly made work of getting the rest of his clothes off, then focused on getting Stiles out of the towel that was still wrapped around his waist. Once the offending garment was shucked into the corner, Derek pulled Stiles down to the edge of the bed, dropped to his knees, and gave Stiles a wicked look before taking almost all of Stiles into his mouth in one go.  

 

 

            “Jesus, Derek, _warn a guy_ ,” Stiles gasped, breathily.

 

            Derek pulled off smirking, “want me to stop?”

 

            “Nope, nope, definitely not,” Stiles said quickly as Derek returned to the task at hand. With Stiles fully hardening in his mouth, Derek trailed one of his hands down to circle Stiles’ hole, which, as promised, was already wet and ready. Derek reached up to grab the bottle he’d discarded on the bed, pulling off Stiles once more to coat his fingers.

 

            He gently thrust in a single digit – even if Stiles claimed he was ready, Derek wanted to be as thorough as possible – slowly adding another and then another as Stiles’ body reopened easily for him. Derek’s fingers were thicker than Stiles’, and he used this to his advantage to continue stretching him as much as he could, but Stiles was getting impatient.

 

            “Derek, _please_ ,” he begged, body quivering, glad that he’d already come once in the shower or he would’ve been long gone by now. Derek pulled his fingers out carefully, pressing a quick kiss to Stiles lips before grabbing the bottle of lube again and standing. Stiles moved back on the bed until he reached the pillows and lounged on his elbows, watching as Derek slicked up his cock.

 

            Placing the bottle back on the ground, Derek crawled up the bed so he was hovering over Stiles, grabbing for one of the pillows behind his head.

 

            “It’s going to hurt at first either way, so just try to relax as much as you can,” Derek said softly as he slid the pillow under Stile’s hips, “and the knot is definitely going to hurt. The second it becomes too much for you, _tell me_ and we’ll stop, okay?”

 

            Stiles nodded, “okay.”

 

            Derek swooped down to kiss him sweetly as he lined himself up, then rested his forehead on Stiles’ as the head of his cock breached the tight ring of muscle. He pushed in slowly and it _did_ hurt but Derek reached between them, stroking Stiles’ dick slowly to give him a distraction. After what seemed like ages, Derek bottomed out, panting against Stiles’ mouth, waiting for Stiles to adjust.

 

            “C’mon Derek,” Stiles gritted out, “ _move._ ”

 

            Derek shifted – moving one arm between the small of Stiles back and the bed and sliding the other under his shoulders and up to cradle Stiles’ head from behind – bringing Stiles’ body as close to his as physically possible before he started moving. The thrusts were slow and deep, and the more Derek moved within him the more the sensation faded from pain to pleasure. Derek alternated between kissing Stiles and resting their foreheads together as Stiles began rolling his hips up to meet Derek thrust for thrust.

 

            Derek was gripping him tightly and making wrecked noises all while swallowing Stiles’ own and it was just _so much_. It was all tenderness and passion and everything Stiles had never known that he wanted from another person and it wasn’t long before the slow grind was driving him into a welcomed madness.  

 

            It seemed Derek wasn’t faring much better.

 

            He moved again, bracketing his arms on either side of Stiles’ head, speeding up his thrusts and _yep_ the change in position had Derek moving into Stiles at just the right angle, turning his madness into outright desperation.

 

            Before he could even ask for it, Derek’s hand went between them again, jerking Stiles hard and fast, and Stiles gripped Derek’s shoulders as if holding on for dear life. Derek began pumping harder and faster, the rhythmic sound of skin on skin finally loud enough to compete with their gasps and moans.

 

            Stiles had lost all control of his mouth once Derek was inside him, but he was pretty sure all he could muster was a whispered _Derek_ as he tumbled over the edge, coming all over Derek’s hand and his own stomach. He was pretty sure Derek outright _whined_ as his thrusts quickly sped up and then slowed almost abruptly.

 

            He almost questioned what was going on, but when Stiles felt the strain against his rim, he remembered. Derek whispered reassuring words into Stiles’ neck, tracing his fingers gently up and down Stiles’ sides as the knot pushed inside him. Derek was right, it _hurt_ , but as Derek came with a moan he reached down and grasped Stiles’ hip, the distantly familiar – but unmistakable – feeling told Stiles that Derek was taking some of his pain

 

            Derek held himself above Stiles as they came down from their highs, both still panting. Derek smiled down at him, something soft and just for Stiles, and it was amazing how – after what they’d just done – a simple smile made his heart stutter. Stiles tilted his face up, and Derek met his silent request with a tender kiss.

 

            “I’m going to roll us over,” Derek said after they broke apart. “It might be a but uncomfortable, but I don’t want to crush you by laying down on you.”

           

            “Such a gentleman,” Stiles muttered, wincing as Derek rolled them so that Stiles was draped over Derek. It wasn’t exactly the most comfortable position, especially with Stiles’ drying come slathered between them but Deaton’s books had said knots only lasted for thirty or so minutes. Stiles was totally blissed out right now anyways, he could deal.

 

 

* * *

 

 

            Stiles had definitely underestimated his ability to fall asleep in literally any position, because he woke without even realizing he’d fallen asleep. Derek was no longer in him and it was obvious that he’d done the honors of cleaning them up while Stiles had been napping. He cracked open his eyes and looked up to see he was sprawled across Derek’s chest…and that Derek was watching him sleep.

 

            “You’re so creepy,” Stiles mumbled bringing his arms around to rest his chin on his hands. Derek didn’t even look offended; he just smiled and ran his hands through Stiles’ very fussed hair.

 

            He rolled off Derek and onto his side and Derek shifted with him, plastering himself up against Stiles’ back, pressing gentle kisses to his neck.

 

            “You know,” Derek said, right before Stiles drifted back to sleep, “I didn’t ever expect to find someone like you. I grew up around all these perfectly matched couples, but I never thought it would happen to me. I just…I’m glad it did.”

 

 

* * *

 

            The following days passed quickly and almost in a blur. Two weeks had seemed like a long time until suddenly they were only days away from the full moon. Everyone was in a constant flurry of activity and it seemed the closer they got, the more on edge everyone was.

 

            Derek and Laura were busy with Scott and Jackson and Peter with wolves training those who weren’t already on the night watch. Those on the watch trained with their group leaders, meaning Isaac, Boyd, and Erica trained with Derek as well.

 

            Stiles spent his days honing his crossbow skills and sparing with Shawn and occasionally working with Argent and the other humans. It was obvious that Derek still didn’t approve of Stiles’ decision to fight, but he knew better than to push the issue.

           

            To be honest, Derek really didn’t have _time_ to talk Stiles out of his decision. Between training himself and the others and going to countless council meetings Stiles really only saw Derek for meals and at late at night when he’d come home from countless hours of strategizing with Peter and the rest of the village’s officials. And when Derek came home, neither of them really had any interest in _talking_ , not right now at least. As it turned out, sex was a really great stress reliever.

 

            His duties at the clinic were currently being put on hold in light of the situation and also because Deaton said he had preparations to make for the full moon himself. He was teaching some of those who were either too young, too old, or who decided not to fight basic healing and first aid so that if things got messy he wouldn’t be the only one there to help the wounded. He also spend a great deal of time going over some of the books they found on the dark arts in Gerard’s study, trying to figure out the best way to deal with him when the time came.

 

            It was the day of the full moon when Deaton called Stiles to his office.

 

            “What’s up doc?” Stiles asked, pausing as he saw a leather satchel of sorts sitting on the exam table. “What’s in the bag?”

 

            “Derek wanted you to have a fail-safe tonight. In that bag is mountain ash. It will keep anything supernatural at bay, if you use it correctly.”

 

            “Okay…how do I use it ‘correctly?’”

 

            “It’s mostly for if you get separated from Derek and the others,” Deaton said. “It has many uses, but it is best used as a defense mechanism. If you surround yourself with a circle of this, no supernatural being will be able to get in – or out – of the cirlce. Keeping you safe inside.”

 

            “A bunch of ash is going to keep giant wolves at bay?” Stiles asked dubiously.

 

            Deaton smiled elusively, “only if you believe it will. After all, it’s all about belief, in the end.”

         

 

* * *

  

            Stiles was ready. The sun had almost set and even though the moon hadn’t risen completely yet, he was ready, on edge, pacing back in forth in the living room. They had scouts in the woods, eyes, ears, and noses searching for any sign of the Ferals. As soon as any sign of the other wolves came about, those on patrol would signal the rest of the village.

 

            “ _Stiles_ ,” Derek finally chided from the couch where he was reading a book, “quit pacing, you’re making me antsy. Just…come sit with me for a while okay?”

 

            Stiles sighed, but plopped down on the couch next to Derek nonetheless, sitting flush against his side. After less than twenty seconds he started bouncing his knee, still looking for an outlet for his restless energy. Derek eventually had enough and clamped a hand down over Stiles’ knee, preventing any further movement of his leg.

           

            “You know,” Stiles said suggestively, leaning closer to Derek to whisper in his ear, “you could always _distract_ me.”

 

            “Nope,” Derek replied quickly, eyes not leaving the page he was reading, “don’t even go there. Besides you really want to deal with the awkwardness that would ensue if the signal were sent out while we’re knotted? Also, Laura would have both our asses, I can just imagine the scathing remarks now.”

 

            “I was kidding…mostly. But fine, if I don’t at least get some passionate life affirming sex after tonight’s over then I want a refund.”

 

            Derek smiled softly and closed his book, but when he looked back up at Stiles, his face was serious, “promise me you’ll be careful tonight.”

 

            “Of course, why wouldn’t I –”

 

            “What I’m saying,” Derek cut in, body tense, “is don’t play the hero or the protector. Not tonight, and especially not for me. Remember that I can take a hell of a lot more hits than you and still walk away.”

 

            “Derek…”

 

            “Please, just promise. I don’t know what’s going to happen out there. But I can’t lose you, Stiles.”

 

            Stiles nodded and slipped his arms around Derek, nestling his face in the junction between the man’s neck and shoulder in a side hug. Derek’s arms were immediately reaching to return the hug as Stiles said, quietly, “I promise.”

 

            Derek gave audible sigh of relief, immediately relaxing as he buried his face in Stiles’ hair and inhaled.

 

 

* * *

 

            When the call came Derek simply stood and calmly helped Stiles gather their things as they made their way outside. Those fighting had been divided up into packs and were given specific locations to report to around both villages. The main goal was still to protect the people, but tonight they would defend in a more offensive way than they had before.

 

            Stiles and Derek were part of one of the larger packs and were lead by Laura. Shawn, Boyd, Erica, Isaac, and Scott, as well a mix of other humans and wolves joined them at their location. They had been given the Argent-Hale border, one of the most important and most vulnerable places. When everyone in their pack arrived Laura began by giving specific orders to each person. In the past, the Ferals had attacked in small groups along the border of the village, but it seemed each time they were getting smarter.

           

            There was fear that they would simply attack in one giant pack, though they’d of course prepared for that by diving up their packs along both village borders in a way that if one group was ambushed they could give a signal – three short howls – and the closest groups could be there in a matter of seconds, the furthest in minutes. It was exhausting and frustrating to figure out the placement, but it definitely eased everyone’s minds once they had.

 

            Each human was paired with a wolf, though there were more wolves than humans in each pack. The wolves weren’t necessarily responsible keeping their paired human alive, but they were there to help combat the advantage the Ferals would have over a human fighting by themselves.

 

            The humans had their own advantages, and were responsible for shooting down as many of the enemy wolves as possible before they got within range. Supplied with all different kinds of bows, as well as the occasional gun – though they were hard to come by – and given anti-werewolf arrows and ammunition, they had the advantage from afar.

 

            After Laura was done talking the group fell in to silence, the wolves listening for any signs of movement and the humans keeping their eyes trained on the wolves for any sudden changes. Stiles gripped Derek’s hand, his pulse racing with the stress and anticipation. Derek squeezed back, reassuringly stroking his thumb over the back of Stiles’ hand.

 

            It wasn’t until every single one of the werewolves tensed that Stiles’ heart kicked into overdrive.

 

            Shawn immediately had his longbow at the ready, notching an arrow and drawing it back.

           

            “They’re here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If the next chapter isn't up within the next two weeks please harass me on here or come to my tumblr's ask box in an angry mob and tell me to finish it. I'm so 100% serious I work best under pressure and threats, which says a lot of bad things about my personality.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it.

 

 

 

When the first wolves broke through the trees, Stiles and Shawn were both ready, taking down a Feral each. The bowmen held off as many as they could, but as soon as the attackers got too close, the Hale wolves came to join the fight.

 

            The Ferals were fully shifted and more ferocious than they’d ever been, if that was possible. The Hales wolves could easily take them on though, the Ferals’ lack of human thought slowed them down, made them less clever.

 

            Derek wouldn’t let Stiles get too close to the action, so Stiles stayed back, shooting where he saw a feral get too close to one of his pack mates.

 

            It was no surprise when he ran out of arrows. He realize he had two choices: hunt around to try to scavenge some, or pull out his daggers and fight alongside Derek.

 

            He chose the latter, falling into place by his mate and fighting alongside him like they’d been practicing. Stiles would never be over how well they fought alongside each other. Moving so well in tandem, they watched each others backs and made up for the other’s weaknesses.

 

            Derek definitely had the brute force of the two of them, but Stiles was faster with his hits, and wolfsbane laced daggers meant even a cut weakened the creatures more than Derek’s claws could. Having Stiles nearby proved to once again sharpen Derek’s focus as the instinct to protect his mate took over.

 

            Danny and Isaac had just taken down the last Feral from the first wave when the group heard the distress call from one of the designated guard locations closest to theirs. Derek and Laura exchanged a look.

 

            “This could be serious, I’m coming with you, Laur. We should split up our pack, leave half behind just in case,” Derek said.

 

            Laura nodded and told her second in command as well as the rest of the wolves she normally patrolled with to stay behind, along with some of the humans they were paired up with. Shawn, Boyd, Erica, Isaac, Scott, Danny, and Stiles would follow her and Derek to whatever outpost was the cause of the signal.

 

* * *

           

            Following the sound of the distress howl, they raced through the woods at top speed, Stiles, Danny, and Shawn doing their best to keep up, though they still fell behind. When the group of werewolves stopped ahead before a small clearing, Stiles and Danny slowed and shared an apprehensive look. Shawn stopped ahead of them holding out his arm and motioning for them to be quiet. Whatever was in that clearing had all the wolves ahead visibly tense.

 

            Laura and Derek were at the front of the group, and Laura seemed to be holding Derek back. Danny, Shawn, and Stiles fell to the back of the group, hidden by the darkness and a cluster of trees, when a familiar laugh made the hairs on Stiles’ arms stand up. Though he could barely see the man through the wolves in front of him, Stiles knew exactly whom they were dealing with.

 

            “Surprised?” Gerard smirked, addressing the Hales, two of the feral wolves circling him protectively, snarling and snapping. “You all thought you figured out my dark secret, when really that was only the beginning. This group of wolves you all call the ‘Ferals’? A pack came to me a while back, desperate for power. And while I normally wouldn’t lower myself to working with mongrels, we had the same goal in mind. The decimation of the Hale pack.” 

 

            Derek growled, looking as if he was ready to strike, but Gerard only laughed again, “oh, I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Derek,” Gerard said. “You make a move to hurt me and the rest of my wolves will be on all of you in within the minute. Right now they are doing their job of keeping the rest of you distracted out there while I finish what I started here.”

 

            “’Finish what you started,’” Laura deadpanned, eyes narrowed.

 

            “This plan has been in place for a very long time, since before any of you were born. Of course, it was derailed a little when my son found out my secret, but no matter. Chris’s discovery is just a bump in the road.”

 

            “Why are you even telling us all this?” Laura asked, jaw clenched, “you telling us your grand scheme is a little on the cliché side isn’t it? Besides once you tell us your plan we can find a way to stop you.”

 

            Gerard smiled calmly, “oh no, that won’t be an issue. See I _am_ going to tell you everything, but every single one of you will be dead before you can act against a word I’ve said. Taking my secrets with you to your graves.”

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

            At the back of the group, while Gerard began his rant, Stiles nudged Shawn.

 

            “Do you think he’s noticed us yet?” He asked, as quietly as possible.”

 

            Shawn shook his head, “I don’t think so. He seems solely focused on Laura and Derek. I think they’re what he wants, they’re part of his plan somehow.”

 

            “We have to do _something_ , go back, get help. We can’t just stand here and watch this,” Stiles whispered vehemently, gripping the strap of his satchel nervously. Which is when it hit him, “ _mountain ash._ ”

 

            “What?”

 

            Danny, who had been nervously flitting his gaze between Gerard and Isaac, tuned into the conversation.

 

            “Deaton said the mountain ash will create a barrier that no supernatural creature can cross. If we make a circle of it around the clearing, they could having a fighting chance against Gerard, and even if he called the rest of the Ferals they would be stuck outside the circle,” Stiles murmured excitedly.

 

            Shawn nodded, but paused, “what if by making the circle we end up making it worse by trapping them in there with Gerard? We don’t know how powerful he is.”

 

            “The circle of mountain ash will make whatever juju he’s using ineffective,” Danny offered.

 

            “You sure about that?” Shawn asked. “How?”

           

            “I read about it. It’ll cut his connection to the other wolves, more than likely freeing them from his control. This is actually a brilliant plan, Stiles.”

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

            “I know that you all know about the black magic,” Gerard said nonchalantly, like they were discussing the weather. “Before the whole debacle of my exile, and for all of my time as leader of the Argent village, I was feeding off my village’s faith in me as a leader as my ‘power source’ so to speak. In turn I circuited that power back into the community to continuously reinstate their loyalty to me. It was quite the convenient cycle.

 

            “But within the last generation, things had begun to change. The people I ruled over no longer feared the wolves like they once had, they started to question me, started to question everything. When the Ferals came to me a little over a year and a half ago, I saw the opportunity to gain even more power. Our deal took the humanity from them, leaving them as savage beasts, but also more powerful.”

 

            “And what were your plans for them after everything was said and done? You’d kill them too?” Derek asked, jaw clenched.

 

            “Of course. Though they are useful, I planned to purge these lands of that which is unnatural. The Ferals are no exception to that.

 

            “The knowledge of black magic was passed down from my father to me. But he never used it in the way that I do, he was too cautious. Too afraid. You see, in my old age I got to thinking about succession. It was obvious early on that Chris would never be the kind of leader that I was. No, he would want to rule the people just and _fairly_ ,” Gerard spat the word like it was poison in his mouth, “and I did not want all my hard work to go to waste.

 

            “So I thought of my daughter, Kate, next. She would have been perfect, so ruthless and so loyal to me. But she was killed by the damn Ferals before I even had the chance to teach her anything,” Gerard turned his gaze to Scott. “Next was Allison. She had the potential, but in the end she was too much like her father, and too in love with _you._ ”

 

            “You’re the reason I got bitten, aren’t you?” Scott stated, realization crashing over him in a cold wave. “You wanted to get rid of me so that I’d be out of Allison’s way?”

 

            “Yes, and no,” Gerard replied. “You see the succession became a non-issue. I found a way to extend my life almost infinitely, and with that extension of my life would come complete control over my village again as well as my people’s loyalty back. Scott, I had you turned simply because you knew too much. You should’ve kept your mouth shut about seeing your little friend, Stiles alive in the woods and maybe you’d still be human.”

 

            Scott growled and attempted to lunge forward, but was quickly restrained by Derek, who gave him a look.

 

            “Speaking of the boy, Derek,” Gerard continued, unfazed by Scott’s reaction to his words, “He had quite a bit of a part to play in this too. He still does. As you know, Stiles volunteered himself to be taken as tribute. You see I’d been keeping tabs on Stiles throughout the years because there’s a spark in him that I knew I would either be able to use to my advantage, or would have to snuff out.

 

            “ You see every fifty years you switch from coming at the winter solstice to claim your tribute to coming at the summer solstice and vice versa. I knew you were coming, but I…refrained from letting the village know that. I just wanted to put the town in a state of panic, wait for some idiot to sacrifice himself to the greater good. I sent Chris to the Stilinski house to discuss the fact that a girl Stiles knew would be the tribute solely because I knew he would overhear. Word on the street was that she was in love with another boy and Stiles knew that, so he took her place, always willing to sacrifice himself for a friend.

 

            “Imagine my joy when it was _you_ of all wolves who picked him. My plan was working perfectly.”

 

            “How exactly,” Derek growled, “is Stiles being my mate ‘part of your plan.’”

 

            “Two ways. One: you have a weakness now. Something you didn’t have before. Two, when I am through with you and your sister, Stiles is next. I’ll set my wolves on him. When we bring his body back to his father, I’ll tell him you did it. I need the sheriff on my side, believing you killed his son.”

 

            It was Scotts turn to hold Derek back as a growl escaped through the man’s bared teeth. Laura stepped in front of her brother, setting a hand on his chest as a means to soothe him.

 

            “Would you get on with it? Why do you need to kill Derek and I specifically?” Laura asked, voice full of agitation.

 

            “Ah, ah, ah,” Gerard said with a mocking smile, “I’m getting to that. You see, three is a powerful number. The three of you are the most powerful in the pack. I will kill you by ranking, saving your Alpha for last. When I kill each of you, whatever power you have over the pack will be transferred to me. And when I kill your Alpha, his spark will be transferred to me.”

 

 

* * *

 

            Gerard was definitely keeping his cliché, villainous monologue strong as Stiles slipped back into the trees and started pouring the mountain ash. He had to be far away enough so that Gerard wouldn’t hear him, but close enough so that he didn’t run out of mountain ash and blow the whole plan

 

            Luckily for Stiles, the two Ferals with Gerard seemed to have all their attention focused on Derek and Laura, so there would be no guard dogs to give away his position. Looking at his satchel, though Stiles tried not to lose hope. There was no way in hell there was enough to circle the entire clearing, even if it was small.

 

            Deaton’s words came back to him, _it’s all about belief, in the end_. So Stiles closed his eyes, took a breath, and imagined himself walking around the entire clearing, enclosing them all in mountain ash.

 

            When he opened his eyes, he could’ve sworn he was a few feet back from where he started. Confused, he reached into his satchel for the ash, heart sputtering when he felt that the bag was empty.

 

            Panicking, he looked around, his heart almost jumping into his throat when he looked behind him, and then in front of him, to see a trail of mountain ash already in place. He had no idea how the hell that just happened, but it did.

 

            Fighting down the urge to jump for joy, Stiles quickly made his way back to the edge of the pack to find Shawn.

  

* * *

 

            “Don’t look so scared,” Gerard’s mocking smile was still firmly planted on his face. “Besides, you’ll be with dear old mom and dad again, won't you? I wish I could promise you a quick and painless death, but no such luck.”

 

            “We can handle the pain, dying doesn’t scare us,” Derek growled.

           

            “Physically, perhaps, but what about emotionally?”

 

            “Emotionally,” Laura repeated, a scary calm settling over her.

 

            “I’ve changed my mind. I think I’ll kill your mates _first_ ,” Gerard said, voice dripping with poison. “And I’ll make you watch. Draw it out so that every werewolf in the area will hear their screams, and know what’s coming. When I’m done with them, the two of you will be _begging_ for me to kill you, too. Me, being the merciful leader that I am, will gladly oblige.”

 

            “That’s enough!” Shawn grit out, pushing through the crowd. “This ends _here_ , Gerard.”

 

            “Of course it ‘ends’ here. Because _I_ am ending it here,” Gerard spat.

           

            “No. This is it for you; sooner or later you knew it would happen,” Shawn said, determined. “You’ve knocked everything out of balance. You argue that werewolves are ‘unnatural’, but look at _you_. Black magic of all things? That’s a whole other level of supernatural you’re talking about. As in demons. The mere existence of werewolves makes you want to commit genocide, but you have no qualms with messing around with the very inhabitants of Hell itself?”

 

            “If you’re trying to get me to reevaluate my morals, I assure you, it’s not going to happen. Or if you’re trying to distract me while you try to piece together some ill thought out plan to try to take me down, I’d stop if I were you. You don’t stand a chance against me, none of you do.”

 

            Shawn raised a brow, hand tightening around the bow he previously held limp at his side, “ill thought out, huh? Well, I hope not. Stiles, _now_!”

 

            Stiles sprung into action from where he was sneaking around the edges of the group, shooting the wolf to Gerard’s left square in the forehead as Shawn took care of the other. He could hear the others gasp behind him, as well as Danny’s murmurs of comfort, letting the wolves know that Shawn and Stiles knew what they were doing.

 

            Gerard locked gazes with Stiles, a cold fury in his eyes, “you think that was smart? I told you I’d have my wolves upon you within the minute! I…”

 

            He paused, looking around frantically.

 

            “The connection’s broken,” Gerard muttered to himself. “How is that possible? Unless all the wolves are dead.” His eyes flitted over each member of the group in the clearing anxiously before he began to back up slowly, trying to make a run for it.

 

            “ _Catch him!_ ” Erica yelled as she, Boyd, and Isaac moved to chase after the man. They stopped abruptly when the man was mysteriously and inexplicably thrown back, tumbling to the ground.

 

            “It worked,” Danny breathed, unable to keep the hope out of his voice.

 

            Grunting, Gerard slowly righted himself, body tensing completely when he noticed the mountain ash. Spinning around, he almost spat out the words, “ _MOUNTAIN ASH_?” before he was rushing at Stiles.

 

            Scott intercepted Gerard, holding him back as he continued to spew venomous words at Stiles, while Derek slipped into the space between Gerard and Stiles, baring his fangs menacingly.

 

            “It’s fine,” Stiles said calmly. “Cut off from his source of power he’ll be weak. He can’t hurt us anymore.”

           

            Shawn took over from there, yanking Gerard out of Scott’s grip by his shirt, and bringing a dagger to his throat. Laura stood back and gaped in surprise at Shawn’s actions, all while moving to stand in front of her pack protectively.

 

            “I told you. This ends _here_. You’ve taken so many lives, caused so much pain,” Shawn croaked, desperation filling his voice. “Over the years you’ve killed so many of my pack mates for unjustifiable reasons, it makes me sick. You separated me from my parents, forbid me to see my family. My sister has a child, a niece or nephew that I’ve never met because of you. She was pregnant when I was chosen, did you know that? And my parents have probably thought I’ve been dead all these years.

 

            “My children,” his voice grew louder and more certain as he continued, “have never met a single one of their grandparents because of you. My wife, the woman I love more than anything, and Derek, a man who is my brother in more ways than just through marriage, lost all but two other members of their family _because of you._ ”

 

            There was a collective gasp from those in the clearing. The Hales both growled and stepped towards Gerard; Derek was held back by Stiles gripping his arm and Laura was stopped in her tracks by her husband giving her one look over his shoulder.

 

            “Its fascinating,” Shawn went on, “what they found in your study. Your son showed me an entry you wrote in your log of the village records, _bragging_ about how you burned almost all of the Hales alive.”

 

            “I was doing what had to be done!” Gerard gasped, failing in his efforts to fight Shawn off.

 

            “You murdered innocent people. And there is a death sentence on your head,” Shawn said easing up so that he could turn to face Laura. “Would you like to do the honors, Laur?”

 

            Laura nodded stonily, her icy gaze locked on Gerard the entire time as she walked up to where Shawn held him. He struggled as he was passed from Shawn’s hold to Laura and refused to meet her eyes. Shawn passed over the dagger, and Laura pressed it up against his chest, right over his heart.

 

            “Hey, Gerard?” She started and he looked up, meeting her eyes in shock of being addressed. “Go to hell.”

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

            It seemed whenever Stiles made the circle; the Feral wolves lost whatever power Gerard was supplying them, just as he’d lost his power too. They all shifted back to beta form, instead of being full-blown wolves, in the middle of the fighting. Those who weren’t taken down fled almost immediately, though few made it out alive.

 

            There were many injured, but most of them were wolves so they didn’t pay it much mind. Ms McCall, Deaton, or one of their many volunteers quickly treated the injured humans, Stiles joining them as Derek followed Laura to help Peter with the aftermath. Most of the human’s wounds weren’t bad due to the fact that they had wolves protecting them.

 

            Peter’s face was solemn as Laura recounted what happened in the clearing, Gerard’s plans and the confirmation that he was responsible for the fire seemed to hit the man fairly hard. Stiles could see the exhaustion in his eyes, but he remained the vision of a leader as he, his niece, and his nephew helped their people and the Argent villagers picked up the pieces of the night.

 

            Laura and Shawn eventually left to get their kids from Peter’s house; they’d left them with his wife during the fighting. The couple let their children sleep in their bed that night, and though they didn’t think it was quite time to tell them what happened in the clearing, Naomi and Matty could sense something was up. So when their parents clung to them, to each other, thinking about all they could have lost that night, their children clung back, happy to be safe in their parents’ arms.

 

            Not too long after Derek sought Stiles out in the slowly dissipating crowd, grabbing his hand and pulling him in to a bone-crushing hug.

 

            “I could’ve lost you out there,” Derek choked before pulling back enough to kiss Stiles feverishly.

 

 

 

 

            “But you, didn’t,” Stiles affirmed. “I’m still here. I’m always going to be here.”

 

* * *

 

            Stiles _did_ get his life-affirming sex after both he and Derek showered off the blood and dirt from the night. Though it wasn’t fast and dirty like he’d been expecting, it was still more intense than any other time between them. It was desperate and passionate and he gripped Derek so tight he was certain that even Derek’s werewolf healing couldn’t keep away the marks. Derek had buried his head in Stiles’ shoulder, his moans slowly turning into almost-sobs. Stiles felt like they spoke almost the whole time, gasping sweet nothings to assure each other, and themselves that they were fine, it was all over, they were going to be okay.

 

 

 

  

* * *

 

 

            Chris returned to the Argent village, bringing Scott and Jackson with him, the next day. He would be back with the council and Stile’s father later in the week to write up peace negotiations. The times of feuding between the Argent and Hale villages were over.

 

            Gerard’s body was brought back to the Argent village as well, where it was burned, along with any and all of Gerard’s possessions, including his books. Chris wanted to assure that Gerard would not be bringing himself back from the dead in any way, shape, or form.

 

            The people had a lot of healing to do, but in time things would revert to the way they were supposed to be.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

            The peace accords were signed on a Wednesday. Free travel was permitted to and from each village, and if the right path was taken it was easy to go back and forth, barely a fifteen-minute walk. The wolves would no longer take tributes, but instead intermingling was greatly encouraged so that the villages could keep strong ties with each other through intermarriage.

 

            Shawn got to see his family again. They came to his and Laura’s house where Naomi and Matty got to meet their grandparents, aunt and uncle, and three cousins. It was obvious that Shawn’s parents adored Laura; they didn’t blame her for the fact that they hadn’t seen their son in over ten years. Derek and Stiles were invited too, and the whole thing was just one big sob fest. Derek swears up and down that he didn’t partake in any of the crying, but Stiles knows otherwise. Besides, it was a good cry. A happy cry.

 

            The villages lived on in peace, as did Derek and Stiles. Derek went back to working his uncle’s council, as well as doing the occasional night watch with Stiles by his side. Stiles went back to working with Deaton at the clinic, on patients as well as learning everything Deaton could teach him about whatever spark inside him allowed Stiles to do what he did with the mountain ash.

 

 

            Two days after the signing of the accords found Derek and Stiles at the Sheriff’s kitchen table for dinner. Stiles would continue to live with Derek in the Hale village as planned, but his father insisted the two of them stop by once a week for Friday dinner. It actually went very well. Stiles could tell that his father respected Derek and could see how happy they were.

 

            “Stiles,” his father had said, stopping him as he followed Derek out of the door when they were done with dinner, “he looks at you the way I used to look at your mother, he loves you. More than anything, and from what I can see, you feel the same. I am so happy for you son.”

 

 

 

 

* * *

         

            As Stiles lay in bed on a rainy Sunday morning, looking at a sleeping Derek wrapped around him, he thought about the fact that everything he’d been through, everything that happened, was all worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe it's over! Thanks to all of you for all your lovely comments and for reading, especially those of you who've been part of this since early on. I appreciate all the love and support. I'll have more stories coming in the future so check back.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading this at least half as much as I enjoyed writing it.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to be friends/say hi/drop me sterek prompts feel free to drop by my teen wolf/writing [tumblr](www.alphamcbootycall.tumblr.com)


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